Runaways
by romeosareveryundependable
Summary: Tyler was told Bonnie was dead so why is she partying it up at a New Orleans nightclub? Before Tyler has a chance to investigate, his memories of Bonnie are wiped and the King of the Quarter himself thrusts Tyler into a struggle for the city, a struggle Bonnie is already very much a part of.
1. Bonnie Bennett Is Dead

**Disclaimer: I do not own or profit from TVD. **

* * *

Bonnie Bennett is Dead

It wasn't Bonnie Bennett who Tyler saw maneuvering the packed dance floor. It wasn't Bonnie Bennett who approached the glowing bar for a drink, cash in hand and ended up pocketing it because a guy there offered to pay for her. It wasn't Bonnie Bennett who left that guy at the bar without a second glance, carrying her bubblegum pink drink away, bobbing along to the music as she sat down at a table in the corner where she sat alone.

It wasn't Bonnie Bennett because Bonnie Bennett was dead.

But it looked like Bonnie Bennett.

This Not Bonnie had Bonnie's tiny body and brown skin, her eyes (a faded leaf green that Tyler could see from across the club only because his hybrid eyes allowed him to) and her dark curls. She walked like Bonnie. If he got up and talked to her, she may even sound like Bonnie.

But she couldn't be Bonnie because Bonnie was dead.

Tyler scraped the sides of his brain for information, something else he remembered about Bonnie, something that would prove this girl was Bonnie. Or prove that this girl was notBonnie. And he came up blank. If Caroline were here, she'd know. She'd be able to tell just by looking at her, one glance in this Not Bonnie's direction, and she'd be able to tell if she really was Bonnie.

But Caroline wasn't here. She was back in Mystic Falls, and at this moment she was probably preparing for the move to her dorm at Whitmore College. She wasn't here with him, watching this Not Bonnie swallow down her pink drink.

* * *

**Three months ago**

Tyler had been waiting for this chance since last week. Once a week was all he allowed himself. He turned on his phone on Thursday night at exactly 11:00, to be turned off again no later than 11:05. He was only there to check his messages, to see what the world had left him on his phone while he went through the seven days since the last check.

He returned to his tiny apartment. He'd emptied his checking and saving accounts before leaving Mystic Falls, but he had to conserve his cash. This was what conserving bought him: a dimly lit shoebox in New Orleans where he slept on a squeaking mattress and had only two lamps to light the entire space. It wasn't so bad really. It reminded him of the cellar in a way, where it was dark and wet and no one could hear him screaming. It surprised him how that comforted him.

Tyler sat down on the bed and turned on his phone. It always seemed to take forever for his phone to start up. He called his voicemail, punched in the password, and put the phone to his ear.

Three unheard messages. First unheard message sent May 21 at 11:03 PM Eastern Time

"Tyler."

Caroline, always Caroline. She was the only one who ever called. No one else. It was only her voice he tried to hear.

She sounded...strange.

"Tyler," she said again. She inhaled and her voice shook. "Bonnie." Sobbing, outright sobbing. Then silence.

End of message.

Next unheard message sent May 21 at 11:31 PM Eastern Time

What was the twenty-first? What was that supposed to be?

Graduation.

He was supposed to graduate with his friends - with Caroline. They were all supposed to graduate and cross that stage in their very red caps and very red gowns, and they were supposed to pose for pictures and throw their caps in the air. Tyler was supposed to do that.

There were so many things he was supposed to do.

"Tyler."

Caroline again.

"Bonnie's dead." She wasn't crying anymore. She sounded numb.

"What happened?" Tyler asked, as if she could hear him, as if she'd respond.

"She brought Jeremy back," Caroline answered. "He's alive now, but she's not. He said the spell was too much for her or something, and she didn't..." She stopped. He heard her slow breathing on the other end, a trembling sigh. "She's dead. I don't know what to do. It wasn't supposed to happen like this. I just...I wish you were here."

End of message.

Next unheard message sent today at 6:01 AM Eastern Time

"I haven't slept," Caroline says. "I can't. My mom's been trying to wrangle Bonnie's dad. He's...not doing well. Her mom's still here, and, I don't know. It's a mess. I wish you were here."

Tyler pictured Bonnie in his mind, remembered her as a kid, when they were all just kids. Then he pictured her as she was, older. She was a witch, a powerful one, one who put Klaus in Tyler's body to save them all, who took Klaus out when she thought Tyler might die. He remembered a Bonnie who drank herself under the table at one of his Halloween parties, before she was a witch.

To hear this message again press four.

He pressed four.

"I haven't slept."

Tyler listened to the message two more times before he looked at the screen of his phone. 11:08. He was past his limit. He turned his phone off and shoved it into his duffel bag. He spread out over his mattress and stared at the ceiling.

He didn't sleep.

* * *

**Present Day**

Tyler hadn't been able to call Caroline back, even though he wanted to. He'd risked enough just going back to Mystic Falls for the prom. He couldn't go back now. So he tried not to think about the message. The last one he'd gotten like that had been about Jeremy being dead. He'd tried to ignore that one, too, and he tried to forget the sudden pit that formed in his chest when it finally hit him that Jeremy Gilbert - this kid he knew, had always known - was dead.

But Jeremy was alive now.

Bonnie wasn't.

But she was. Right now she was dancing alone on the packed dance floor, surrounded by people who paid her little to no attention. The hot pink gleam of her dress caught the strobe lights, winking and blinking beneath their multicolored glare.

But she couldn't be.

Tyler didn't go out very often. The only times he did was when it occurred to him that this was his life now, and he should probably try to do something with it. Running from Klaus didn't have to mean he never left his tiny apartment again. It just meant he could never go home, never be anything or anyone of importance. It just meant he couldn't be seen or remembered or anything else. It didn't mean he couldn't go out on Saturday nights and slip into the New Orleans nightlife and pretend that he was normal.

That's what he did. That's how he saw Bonnie, winding through this club like she owned it, very much alive. He watched her the whole night. What he did on other nights, on nights when Not Bonnie Bennett wasn't at this very nightclub, interestingly (and also stupidly) named Turbulence, was sit on the club's upper level, nearest the railing that overlooked the bar and dance floor, nursing a beer. Sometimes he ordered a second one, but usually he didn't. By the time he finished his first, he was beginning to wallow in his own self-pity, wishing he were stronger, older, better - good enough to destroy Klaus and go home and be with Caroline again.

Tonight, he didn't even finish his first beer, and all he could think about was Not Bonnie, and how she seemed so very Bonnie. He watched her the whole night. Watched her get another drink from the bar - she paid for it with money stashed down the front of her dress - and return to her corner table to suck on the straw. She got up to dance a couple of times and drew partners in the forms of attractive young men in button-down shirts and large, expensive looking watches. She bought a third drink, this one just a bottle of water, and sat back at her table.

Tyler expected her to look up and stare right at him. He felt very exposed up there, looking down at her. He kept thinking she'd sense his eyes on her and look up. Why wasn't she looking at him? As far as Tyler was concerned, it was just the two of them in this club, and she should have known he was there the way he knew she was there. She shouldn't be able to ignore him, when he was giving her all the attention he had.

More than once he considered getting up and talking to her, but he stopped himself each time. He could be half out of his seat, but he'd still think differently and sink back down to stare at her some more.

He had to be sure it was her.

When Not Bonnie left, he followed her.

It wasn't Bonnie. He decided that as soon as they left the club as the throbbing bass faded behind them. It wasn't Bonnie. Bonnie was dead. This girl was something else, someone else. Maybe a doppelganger. Was that even possible? Of course it was possible. He was a hybrid. When Bonnie Bennett was alive, she was a witch. Why couldn't there be a Bonnie Bennett doppelganger?

Still, he wanted to be sure.

They rounded the corner before he finally said anything.

"Bonnie?"

That was the best he could come up with. But the way he saw it, if she kept walking then maybe he was wrong after all.

She did keep walking, but he heard the stutter of her heartbeat, saw her stride falter just slightly. But she did keep walking, and a less advanced specimen would have missed the signs.

"Bonnie," Tyler repeated, walking faster. She walked faster, too. "Bonnie, wait." She turned down an alleyway lined with trashcans. He followed without hesitation and regretted it when he was thrown against the brick wall of the bordering building, his body crushed to it painfully.

Bonnie stepped from the shadows, peering at him with narrowed eyes. It was her. The hair, the eyes, the slightly skewed jawline. It was all Bonnie. It was Bonnie. He'd known that already, but looking at her so closely, even with his spine being ground against a brick wall, made the confirmation better somehow.

"You're alive," he said, not knowing if he should smile or do something else. She didn't look happy. They'd never been close, but he thought maybe she'd be a little more enthusiastic about seeing him after so long. He was certainly happy to see her.

When was the last time he'd seen any of his friends? Just Caroline at prom. He didn't get to see Matt, Jeremy was still dead, the guys on the football team had become specters in his memory and probably wouldn't care to see him anyway. His mom was dead.

But Bonnie was here, and he couldn't describe how happy he was to see her.

"You're alive," he repeated.

Tyler expected Bonnie's anger to dissipate, melt away. It didn't. Her gaze got harder, and she stepped closer to him. He towered over her on foot, but now with his feet off the ground and his body fused to the wall, he was even taller. She looked up at him fiercely.

"No," she hissed. "I'm not."

She reached up to place a hand on his forehead. She said words, hushed, rushed and foreign.

The alley swam in front of him, Bonnie's face turned into a darkening, blurry whirlpool, and he felt himself falling.

When he opened his eyes he was on the ground, and he didn't remember getting there. He looked to his right and saw nothing, then to his left where three people were standing, looking down at him with darkly curious expressions.

Vampires. Tyler felt it rolling off them in waves, their deadness, the bloodlust.

Were they the reason why he was so confused? Why he didn't know what had led him to this alley? Why he didn't remember anything except for getting his beer at the club and taking his usual seat?

He moved, making for the other end of the alleyway, but one of them gripped his arm and pushed him back down.

"Sit still," he said. He was shorter than Tyler, tawny skinned and tall with dark hair that hung long past his shoulders. There were many chains around his neck, of various metals, one of them holding an ostentatious crucifix that dangled in the center of his chest.

The other two hung back, observing. When it became clear Tyler wasn't going to do anything, another stepped forward. He was taller than his friend with dark skin, a shaved head, and a decent amount of scruff on his face, a mustache and a slight beard. In his gray v-neck and jeans, he looked so casual next to the other without any jewelry or adornment at all. He squatted down so he was at Tyler's level, and smiled a gleaming smile.

"You're Tyler, right?" he said.

"Yeah," he confessed, a cross between annoyed and worried. Annoyed because he didn't know how or when he'd gotten here, and worried because he didn't know what was going to happen to him now, but the presence of three vampires who knew who he was wasn't making him feel very confident about his future.

"Thought so," the vampire said. "Get up." He rose to his full height, and Tyler followed suit. if there was going to be a fight, he probably didn't stand much of a chance. He may be able to bite all three of them, and maybe he could get away. If he laid low for a few days, they'd eventually succumb to the werewolf venom, and Tyler could attempt to slink out of the city unnoticed.

He could try.

The vampire extended a hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you."

Tyler stared warily at his hand and neatly trimmed nails and wondered if he should dare accepting this guy's hand.

"Tyler," the vampire said sharply, fixing him with his dark eyes. "It's a pleasure to meet you," he repeated.

Tyler took the offered hand, prepared for a hand through the chest or something and being overcome with a sense of uneasy relief when all the vampire did was shake his hand.

"I'm Marcel," the vampire said. "King of the Quarter."

King of the Quarter.

Tyler had thought New Orleans may be a bad idea, but he also thought being surrounded by vampires, particularly in such a busy place, would make his life a bit easier. Easier to find blood, easier to feed, easier to fade into obscurity, even with Marcel reigning from a throne somewhere in the French Quarter. An elusive figure (though Tyler wasn't sure if Marcel was elusive because he was truly elusive or if it was just because Tyler never attempted to find him) one Tyler had only heard about but had never seen.

Now he was staring right at him.

Tyler didn't know what to say. More specifically, he didn't know what Marcel wanted to hear and therefore didn't know what he could say to keep himself alive. He could wing it and see what became of it. If Marcel decided to kill him now then he supposed that was okay. He wasn't living much of a life in New Orleans anyway, and whatever life he'd had in Mystic Falls had already passed him by. But Caroline was still there somewhere, so no Tyler didn't want to die, he'd left Mystic Falls to save his own life. He couldn't just-

"Hey," Marcel said sharply, snapping his fingers in front of Tyler's face until his eyes flitted back to his face. Marcel's smile only widened. "Pay attention." With a light chuckle, he examined him with a pensive stare and then looked back to the other two vampires behind him who looked almost amused. Marcel must have communicated something in whatever glance he'd shot them.

Marcel spun back around to Tyler, still smiling. "Well, Tyler. I think we can help each other."

Tyler didn't speak. Speaking was bad when one didn't know what the other wanted. Better to let Marcel talk, let him shuffle and deal all of his cards. Then Tyler would know what his own hand looked like.

"We have something, or rather someone, in common," Marcel said, rubbing his hands together. "Klaus?"

Tyler felt a familiar heated chill settling over him. It was there whenever he thought of Klaus, whenever he thought of why he'd left home, why his mother was dead, whenever Klaus' name wrenched itself from his throat and burned his tongue. It simmered beneath and on the surface of his skin, gnawed at every internal organ and created a bitter taste in his mouth. He hoped Marcel didn't notice all of that. He still didn't speak.

Of course Klaus knew the King of the Quarter. Of course Klaus had friends in New Orleans. Of course because no matter how far Tyler ran it wouldn't be far enough, and Klaus would always find him. And even after thinking Klaus remaining in Mystic Falls may be a good thing for Tyler, Klaus still screwed him over all the way from Virginia.

Marcel cocked his head to the side, intrigued by Tyler's silence. He stepped closer. "Don't worry, Tyler," he said. "I'm not here to take you to Klaus. I need your help with Klaus. He's a problem for you, and he's a problem for me. You're going to help me solve that problem, and you'll be solving one of your own at the same time. Say yes, and we'll leave here together. I'll even hook you up with a real apartment instead of the hole you're living in. You'll be under my protection. Say no and I'll kill you right here. It's nothing personal, it's just for security purposes."

Tyler swallowed down a lump in his throat. Protection? What did he need protection for if not from Marcel himself?

That was what he asked Marcel.

He hitched an eyebrow. "You're kidding, right? You've got Klaus on your ass, and I know better than most what Klaus does to people he's marked for death. If you thought you could take him on your own, you'd have done it already. To be blunt, Tyler, me killing you would be kind compared to what'll happen when you bump into Klaus on the street."

Klaus? On the street?

Tyler's confused expression did all the talking, more talking than Tyler wanted it to do. The last thing he needed was to look at all weak in front of Marcel. He looked a cross between disbelieving and sympathetic. "You didn't know he was here?" he asked, before letting out a low whistle. "Well, if it makes you feel any better, he doesn't know you're here either though that news is likely to spread. I found you, didn't I? It's only a matter of time before he does. Unless you throw your hat into my ring, and then I'll scrub this whole city clean of any indication you ever stepped foot inside of it. And you'll be very, very comfortable."

"Where you put me?"

"Until I need your services," Marcel said.

"What kind of services?"

"The kind of services that'll ensure your survival," Marcel said. "It'll get Klaus off your back."

There was nothing that would ever get Klaus out of Tyler's life. That much had been proven. Nothing short of death (and that was impossible unless Tyler wanted to die himself and kill Caroline along with him) would free Tyler of Klaus.

He could try to run. He could leave town tonight, but even as the thought occurs to him Tyler knows that's impossible, too. Marcel runs this town and if he wants to know where Tyler is, he'll have no trouble finding out. Tyler won't escape the city much less the state.

And he's interested. He's annoyed with himself for being interested because this is his life he's dealing with, and even though it's not much of one anymore, it's the only one he's got. If he makes the wrong choice Marcel could screw him over just as easily as Klaus.

But then again, he didn't have much of a choice.

"Okay," Tyler says. "I'm in."

He couldn't tell if Marcel's smile was one of genuine joy or one belonging to someone who'd just tricked a very stupid person into doing exactly what he wanted. "Then walk with me," he said, slinging an arm around Tyler's shoulders. He pulled him along to the entrance of the alley where a dark car was waiting at the street.

The King of the Quarter opened the back door for Tyler and motioned him inside. He slid inside followed by Marcel and the other two vampires.

"Don't worry, Tyler," Marcel said, as the car pulled away from the curb, "I have a feeling we're going to work very well together."

Whether that was true or not, Tyler had no idea, but as he was driven somewhere (fingers crossed it wasn't to his death) he didn't know why he couldn't shake the sudden image of a hot pink dress and familiar though hard-to-place green eyes or why he heard his own voice saying, You're alive.


	2. Bonnie 2 Point O

Bonnie 2.0

Bonnie got a block away before she stopped walking. Her shoes were killing her. She'd meant to call a taxi to come pick her up from the club but walking had seemed like a good plan. The night was warm, but there was a cool breeze coming off the river. She'd talked herself out of the taxi almost as soon as she'd talked herself into one, and then someone was calling her name, and it was Tyler Lockwood.

Of all the people to be calling her name.

And now she really should call a taxi, because walking seemed like an invitation for him to find her again.

Bonnie had wiped his memories of the past few hours, all focused on her in the dim, flashing surroundings of the club. Her dancing, her drinking. Her pink dress. Her green eyes. Her face. Her hair. Her. Her. Her.

_You're alive._

Of all the people, in all the places.

Granted, New Orleans wasn't exactly the moon, but she hadn't expected anyone to come _here_. Why would they? Klaus was here. None of her former friends had any overwhelming urges to head into the city Klaus was now calling home. None but Tyler, who hadn't been around to learn of Klaus' change of address.

Or had he known?

No, he couldn't have. Tyler left Mystic Falls to get _awa_y from Klaus. He wouldn't change his mind and decide to hunt him down now, and he couldn't have deluded himself into believing he had a chance against Klaus.

Could he?

Bonnie was still standing on the sidewalk. She couldn't just leave Tyler there, even though she _should_. If she was going to keep up with this thing she had going, this thing she'd carried on for the past three months, she should leave him there. He'd find his way back to wherever it was he'd come from.

But it was some kind of miracle that Klaus hadn't already discovered Tyler, depending on how long Tyler had been here. If Klaus found out he was in the city, if he came across him alone and unconscious in an alleyway...

Bonnie turned back around. She probably stuck out in her bright dress. It wasn't something she'd usually wear. She never would have worn it back in Mystic Falls, back when she was still alive, but since she was dead, in the figurative sense at least, she might as well wear some things she'd never considered wearing before. It clung to her in all the right places, was so short it made her legs look miles longer, especially in the metallic silver pumps she wore. They were cute in the box. And out of them. But after walking this long she thought they were the worst things ever.

There were so many things she did now that she'd never done before. It had taken some getting used to, being this new Bonnie. The Bonnie that went out alone to nightclubs and danced with strangers without the buffers that were her friends, who allowed a cute guy at the bar to buy her a drink and said a polite thank you before flitting away because he wasn't _that_ cute. But she was getting used to it, and sometimes she really liked it. She'd been liking it tonight before Tyler made his appearance.

Bonnie was steps away from the alleyway when she saw the car. It idled alongside the curb, so dark it looked black, especially in the dark, but she knew it was actually navy in color. Her gaze dropped to the license plate, the typical Louisiana one, not even personalized except for a small decal in the left corner. If someone didn't know what they were looking for, they probably wouldn't notice it.

And to anyone else, a random tourist, a human resident who leaned away from the true believer side of the spectrum, it wouldn't mean anything. But the tiny silver crown meant plenty to every supernatural in New Orleans.

The car was Marcel's, perfect for slipping by unnoticed at night, but with just enough touch of whimsy for the king.

Bonnie crossed the street, casually glancing in the direction of the alley. She zeroed in on the backs of three vampires. She'd had enough experience with them - too much really - to know who they were on sight. Marcel in his usual uniform, deceptive and charming in how casual it was, tall and slender but moving in a way that if he moved to embrace you, you'd question if he meant to express genuine affection or if he was going to snap your neck.

And that smile.

Bonnie imagined he was smiling right now, a shameless grin that was dangerous in its ability to disarm. Marcel always smiled. He was one of the happiest vampires she'd ever met. A far cry from Damon and Stefan's usual brooding and the restrained menace of the other vampires she'd crossed paths with. When Marcel was angry, he smiled. When he was happy, he smiled. And there was no way to tell those smiles apart. One just had to know.

The other two were Duke, typically weighed down by all his jewelry, and Ronan, intimidating in his near perpetual silence and his ability to fade into the background right before he detached an arm clean from your shoulder.

If Tyler had caught their interest, there was nothing Bonnie could do for him now. Not that she _should_ be doing anything for any of them anymore. That was the deal she'd made with herself. She'd read the terms and conditions. She'd checked the box, clicked submit. It was done. No backing out now.

* * *

**Three months ago**

Bonnie looked down at her body. She didn't know how she'd come to be here, when she should have been walking through pearly gates or something with her Grams. But as soon as she'd stepped away with her, out of Jeremy's sight, she was here. Here was back in the boiler room with her dead body. She couldn't look away. She was very pretty in death, more so in life, but certainly pretty as a dead girl. Her dad would pick a really nice picture for the funeral program. And also the obituary. Caroline would be able to help him find a good one.

"This is morbid."

Bonnie spun around and gasped when she saw who was behind her. It was _her_ albeit a different looking her but still her. Bonnie 2.0 was in jeans and a tank top, casual against Bonnie's prim, graduation elegance. Her hair was curly and shiny, styled with the perfect care of someone who didn't have to work draining magic all the time and therefore had the time to work on her hair while still doing homework and studying for finals and such.

"Who are you?" Bonnie asked. Maybe the better question would have been "What are you?"

"I'm you," 2.0 snapped. "Obviously." She leaned against the far wall, brushing her curls from her eyes.

"Well what are you doing here?" Bonnie questioned. Was this going to be a ghosts of Christmas past kind of thing? Or was Bonnie 2.0 here to teach her the ways of the afterlife?

"I'm here to talk to you," 2.0 answered. She stepped forward and on her feet were a pair of shiny gold sandals. Her toenails were painted a pretty purple. She must have had so much time on her hands. "And ask you what you died for."

Bonnie didn't understand the question. "I-"

2.0 pointed her eyes at the ceiling and tapped a foot impatiently on the floor. "There was a reason, Bonnie." She said her name like it wasn't also her name, like they weren't the same person. "What was it?"

"To bring Jeremy back."

"Why?"

"Because he's Jeremy. He's-" The feel of Jeremy's mouth on hers is still there, hot and wet in a ghostly kind of way then skin and hands she couldn't feel once he rejoined the living world, and Bonnie remained on the other side. "And Elena-"

"Stop," 2.0 said tiredly, holding up a hand. "Who are you?"

"I'm me."

"You're you," 2.0 said slowly. "Apparently that only means something to one of us. Maybe this should be a cause for celebration. You finally did it. You died for your friends. That's what you've been trying to do ever since you came into your powers. Self-sacrifice is the name of your game, and you are a _winner_. Well, more of a loser, if you ask me."

"Excuse me?"

"Little Bonnie Bennett, witch prodigy," 2.0 said, pushing herself off the wall and coming to stand near Bonnie's body. She cocked her head to the side to stare down at her. She blocked Bonnie's view. "Incredibly powerful but incredibly stupid. Little Bonnie Bennett with little to no sense of self-preservation. Or maybe you're just suicidal," she added casually.

"What are you talking about?" Bonnie asked, annoyed. This girl with her face was grating. Maybe this was what Elena always felt when she and Katherine met.

2.0 turned around, looking impressed that Bonnie spoke at all. "Getting angry? Well, it's too little too late for that. You're already dead. That rage may have helped you out a while ago, but it's not gonna get you anywhere now. You're dead and your body's rotting on the floor of a boiler room - great choice for your final resting place, by the way - in the name of _friendship._

"So let's talk about friendship, shall we, Bonnie? Where are your friends?" She did a circuit around the room, as if examining the nooks and crannies of the space and expecting Elena or Caroline to come into view at any moment. "Not here," she said at last. "I don't know where they are, and neither do you. But what we both know is that they're not here, but you are. And you're dead. You're dead, and you're alone, and you died _alone._"

Bonnie pictured Caroline with her mom, snapping pictures before they head off to dinner together. She could see Elena with Damon, or with Stefan. Laughing, smiling, doing things, being alive. Or as alive as vampires could be.

"Oh, don't hurt Caroline's and Elena's feelings," 2.0 continued. "Don't ruin their summer because Bonnie's dead." Her mocking voice was obviously supposed to be Bonnie's. Forget that Bonnie 2.0's voice was already Bonnie's voice. "That'll be so hard for them to deal with, won't it? I'll let you in on a secret, _Bon._ You're dead. Your summer's pretty fucking ruined already, way more than it is for any of your friends because at least they're still alive. But you? Dead as a doornail, and no one knows. No one cares. Not even you."

"It's pathetic," 2.0 hissed. She stepped closer to Bonnie and stared directly at her, her eyes narrowed into slits. There was a cruelty lingering behind her face, a pride in her eyes and hatred in her bones. She looked like Bonnie, but she wasn't Bonnie. She was a different sort, a different person, one rolled up in and seasoned with anger. "I could kick the crap out of you right now. You have no idea how badly I want to. You could do anything, have anything, and _this_ is what you chose."

"Are you finished?" Bonnie snapped.

"No," 2.0 said, with a smirk, "but you are, being dead and all." Her smirk widened into a full blown grin. It wasn't a kind one. It overflowed with animosity, disappointment, and Bonnie could see it in her eyes, how badly 2.0 wanted to put the original - the _real_ Bonnie - out of her misery. "Unless she brings you back."

"Who?" Bonnie asked.

"Qetsiyah," 2.0 answered.

Qetsiyah. Dead and gone Qetsiyah. Ancient ancestor Qetsiyah who couldn't be bothered to turn up when Bonnie needed her to be here? _That_ Qetsiyah?

"What's the catch?" Bonnie asked warily.

"No catch," 2.0 said with a light shrug of her shoulders. "But..."

Always a but. Glad to see she'd been right about that part, Bonnie folded her arms across her chest and waited for 2.0 to continue.

"But," 2.0 went on, "she won't do this again. The next time you die, no matter how young you are or how many loved ones you're leaving behind or how much _potential_ you have, you're not coming back. It doesn't matter what the cause is or how many of your friends you'll be sacrificing yourself to save. You want to die for them so badly, you go ahead and do it and stay that way."

She lifted her chin, looked at Bonnie with an expression of disgust. "I give it three months. You won't last any longer than that. We'll be right back here, and then I'll guide you off to wherever the hell you're gonna go, and that'll be that. I want to have some faith in you, but I really don't. Like I said, Bonnie, self-sacrifice is your game, and you're good at it. But on the off chance you're feeling an urge to stay alive, here's a suggestion. Leave town. Go somewhere you won't be tempted to kill yourself - or let anyone kill you - and _stay alive. _Maybe actually live a life? But if that's too hard for you, at the very least pick a prettier place for your body."

There was a sudden pressure on Bonnie's lungs, and everything went dark. Then she was sucking down air, and her chest felt full to expansion. Her body felt hot, like it had been touched by a live wire and the electricity was coursing through her body, animating limbs and organs, shoving Bonnie back into the land of the living. When she opened her eyes, Bonnie 2.0 was gone, leaving not a single indication that she'd ever been there.

The room spun slightly, and Bonnie stayed on the floor until it stopped. When she sat up, it started all over again, and she leaned against the wall until it again subsided. When it did, Bonnie pulled herself to her feet and left the boiler room, thinking of Jeremy and how he was probably on his way to tell the others about her death despite her requests for him to do the opposite. She could stop him - _should_ stop him. It would be cruel to let them believe she was dead when she was very, very _not_.

Bonnie 2.0 would say it was fine. Be cruel.

_Where are your friends?_

Bonnie's jeans were dotted with suspicious stains and streaks of dirt, and the boiler room seemed darker and dirtier than it had when she'd decided to store her body here. It also seemed very small, claustrophobic in its insignificance. It was the last place anyone would look, a place avoided by most people on a regular day but certainly on Graduation Day. And also the last place anyone would want their dead body to be left.

_Leave town. Go somewhere you won't be tempted to kill yourself - or let anyone kill you - and _stay alive.

Bonnie left the school, and Mystic Falls, that night.

* * *

**Present Day**

Bonnie couldn't see Tyler, and her fiddling with her phone wasn't going to play off well for much longer. Marcel's driver, another vampire with Marcel's name practically plastered across his forehead, may look over at her at any moment. He'd surely recognize her, and then what? Bonnie saw a flash of Tyler's white t-shirt and his dark hair but nothing more.

She couldn't help him, not if Marcel was involved, not if Marcel wanted him for some reason. And what reason could that be? To turn him over to Klaus? As a gesture of their friendship? Their relationship had been strained lately, that was obvious to everyone in the city. Marcel was still the King, but he had competition. Did he think handing Tyler over might appease Klaus?

If Marcel knew Tyler was here, Klaus wasn't far behind. Which meant so many bad things for Tyler. And for her, if she tried to intervene now.

She'd checked the box, clicked submit. It was done. Her life was still worth living. Even more now that she was here.

Bonnie kept walking, dialing the cab company as she went.

* * *

Bonnie's apartment was the best spot in New Orleans, if she did say so herself. As she closed the door and flicked on the light, she discovered another benefit of not getting involved in the Tyler situation: she got to keep her apartment in its perfect condition.

The walls were all painted the same deep violet color and the floor was shining hardwood except for the carpet in the living room where it was a dark grey. The color scheme was different than anything she'd ever tried before: purples and oranges and reds. The sofa, the chairs, the throw pillows, even the cabinets in the kitchen. Bright orange lilies sat in the vase on the dining room table, a space she rarely used but was certainly nice to look at. When she ordered in, she put the food on real plates and pretended she'd cooked it, and she sat at that table to eat.

The whole place radiated a kind of maturity that Bonnie had always desired, a mark of her moving on, a brand new place for a brand new Bonnie who wore hot pink dresses and painful pumps and left Tyler Lockwood to the King of the Quarter and smiled because she got to keep her apartment intact.

Bonnie kicked off her shoes and left them at the door. She was unzipping her dress as she padded into her bedroom, contorting herself to do so. In her room, she hit the light and jumped when she saw the figure sitting on her bed, one long leg crossed over the other.

"You were out late," Klaus said as he fingered the corner of one of her throw pillows. He looked very at home on her neatly made bed, his shoes dangling off the mattress' edge.

"Get off my bed," Bonnie ordered.

"Isn't it technically _my_ bed?" Klaus questioned. "Seeing as how I purchased it for you? Seeing as how I bought and furnished this entire apartment?"

"Get off my bed."

With an exaggerated sigh, Klaus hopped off. "Need help with your zipper?"

"No," Bonnie snapped, very glad she'd only gotten it down about an inch. "What do you want?" She folded her arms across her chest and suddenly felt very exposed in her dress. In a dimly lit club it wasn't that big of a deal. No one was looking at her clearly there, with their beer goggles on and the strobe lights flashing all around. But here in her well-lit bedroom, with Klaus standing in front of her, she felt close to naked. And without her shoes on, very short.

For a moment she thought Klaus knew about Tyler and was there to again test her loyalty in some new way. She'd thought they'd exhausted all those methods three months ago, but Klaus always managed to find a new way to gauge how far she was willing to go for him - more specifically, for his seemingly limitless funds. Funds so limitless she tried to put aside the many horrors Klaus inflicted on her and others, so limitless that sometimes she succeeded in forgetting about them for a few seconds.

If he asked her to do something to Tyler, she didn't know if she'd do it. But a voice in the back of her head told her she would, a voice very like that of Bonnie 2.0, because if she didn't everything she had here would dissolve away, and she might as well head back to Mystic Falls to die again.

Klaus spoke. "Marcel is making a move against me."

Bonnie rolled her eyes, suddenly feeling much lighter. Her concerns were unnecessary. "You've been saying that for a month now. And still, this mysterious move has yet to be made."

If she was really loyal to Klaus, she'd tell him about Tyler without any prompting. She'd tell him about Marcel and Duke and Ronan as well. Maybe Tyler was part of this aforementioned _move_ Marcel was making, but she kept her mouth shut.

"What do you want me to do, Klaus?" Bonnie asked tiredly.

Working for Klaus wasn't _that_ bad. There wasn't a whole lot he had for her to do really. It was all about Marcel. What was Marcel doing? How was Marcel doing it? How did he keep the witches under his control? The _other_ witches, of course, because Bonnie was with Klaus. And Marcel and Klaus were _friends_, and Marcel was all too happy to oblige Klaus a witch if Klaus could ensure Bonnie wouldn't make any attempts to overpower him. Bonnie had agreed.

"I need you to be ready," Klaus said. "For war, when it comes."

Klaus was always so dramatic.

"Okay," Bonnie said simply.

"Bonnie," he said. "I need your support."

From what Bonnie knew (very little because Klaus didn't trust her _that_ much) he had quite the situation brewing. Very urgent, very stressful and very secret. There were witches involved. That would have made Bonnie question her placement in this whole scenario except, besides Bonnie's immunity from Marcel's witch trap, she was a Bennett witch. And not a single Bennett witch had been caught in Marcel's little magic surveillance vacuum, and they were _the_ witches, the ones to be, the ones to beat, and Klaus had one on his payroll.

"You've got it," Bonnie said. "That was the deal right?"

"Right," Klaus agreed.

"Then goodnight," Bonnie said. She walked him to the door and slammed it behind him, twisting the locks into place as if it mattered (it didn't because he had a key, not that Klaus would need a key to get into a locked apartment anyway especially since one of the conditions of her moving in was that he was guaranteed an invitation). She went into the kitchen and found a bottle of wine on top of the refrigerator, a gift from Klaus when she'd moved in. A housewarming present, he'd called it.

Bonnie wasn't big on wine, but she uncorked it anyway and didn't bother taking down a glass. She drank it straight from the bottle, like some kind of uncultured, classless teenager, and she tried not to think of Tyler and the tiny silver crown decal. Intervention would mean going against Klaus, who was signing her checks and securing the life she was falling so easily into now. And it could potentially mean putting her own life at risk in the process.

She offered Klaus support, but support didn't mean her life. They'd been very clear on that front. If she wasn't dying for the people she'd left behind in Mystic Falls, she wasn't dying for him either.

And if she died now, she'd stay that way.

Bonnie 2.0 had bet on her only lasting three months without walking willingly into death's waiting arms again. Bonnie wasn't going to prove her right.

Terms and conditions. She'd checked that box, clicked submit. It was done. No backing out now.

Tyler was on his own.


	3. House Marcel

House Marcel

"Ever been here before?" Marcel asked as the car glided through the dark night, quiet jazz playing over the radio. As he spoke, his fingers kept time with the music, playing along where they rested on his knee. "To New Orleans?"

"No," Tyler answered. He was trying to look unbothered. Predators liked their prey weak, and if Tyler showed the slightest indication of being so, Marcel would pounce on him. However helpful he thought Tyler could be, he wouldn't hesitate to use him, wield him like a weapon and toss him away once he served his purpose if he thought Tyler would let him. He could do it regardless, but at least this way he knew Tyler wasn't just going to watch it happen.

"Better late than never," Marcel said. He glanced to the two other vampires who were staring passively out the windows. "I didn't introduce my friends. Duke," he said motioning to the vampire with the many chains, "and Ronan." The second was quiet while Duke raised a hand in a short wave, his thin lips curved upward into a smirk.

"My brothers," Marcel added.

Tyler turned his gaze back to the tinted windows to watch New Orleans pass by as the car made a turn, bumping over the streetcar tracks. They were going into a neighborhood Tyler had never been in before. He hadn't explored much of the city since he'd been there, just the basics. Every time he thought he might get out and see it, he thought he may be making himself too comfortable. If he made New Orleans home, it was like giving up on ever going back to Mystic Falls.

The houses they passed had to be old, all in a variety of colors with iron gates that separated them from the sidewalks. Statues sat on the porches, guarding the front doors with their stony visages. There were balconies on most with railings made of the same wrought iron. Most of the windows in them were dark, and the streets were still. The car drove through them with controlled ease, slinking down the street in no real hurry. Wherever they were going, they could take their time getting there, though Tyler suspected they were nearing their destination.

"The Garden District," Marcel explained.

They were going to a house. Tyler was proven right when the car rolled to a stop.

"This house," Marcel said, nodding to the structure the car was now parked in front of, "was built just for me. I compelled a bunch of former slave owners to handle the cost of the construction." Again with that grin. Tyler almost found himself returning it, but he stopped just as the thought crossed his mind. "They did a good job, don't you think? It's still standing after all this time. Just as beautiful as when I first saw it."

It _was_ beautiful. Two floors, possibly three if the window at the house's apex belonged to an attic. Like the others there was a wrought iron balcony on the upper floor to overlook the street, held in place by columns whose cream color matched that of the rest of the house. There was a set of twin staircases leading up to the porch and a pair of doors flanked by statues. Dragons, from the look of them with their mouths open and revealing carefully carved stone fangs. Duke opened the car door, and he and Ronan climbed out. Marcel motioned for Tyler to go next, and he obliged.

"You live here?" Tyler asked as Marcel led them up the staircase on the left where they had to cut through the front yard which was bordered by boxwood hedges and an iron fence.

"Sometimes," Marcel replied. "Not at the moment, however. You'll have your privacy."

Privacy. A concrete concept made fluid by Marcel's suggestion of it. No matter what he said, Tyler knew the last thing he'd have here was privacy. There would certainly be the illusion of it, but the reality would be impossible to grasp.

Marcel unlocked the door with an ancient looking key, one he dropped into Tyler's hand before leading him inside where the house opened up into a magnificent foyer lit by a crystal chandelier. A staircase covered in deep red carpet led up to the second floor.

"You're welcome to come and go as you please," Marcel said. "Though I don't suggest going far. The closer to the house you are, the safer you'll be. Got it?"

"Got it," Tyler assured him though he wondered how that proximity equaled safety thing worked.

Marcel gave Tyler the tour while Duke and Ronan lingered near the front door. He showed him the parlor where the walls were painted a deep red and all the furniture was the same dark wood. The bedroom that would be Tyler's (one of three bedrooms in the house) hosted a four poster bed with fresh sheets, all black. The window was curtained, the chest of drawers polished, end tables held up lamps with fringed shades, and the floor was adorned with a thick navy blue carpet that muffled their footsteps completely.

On the bed sat Tyler's duffel bag.

"I took the liberty of picking up your things," Marcel said. "Don't worry. Everything's in there."

How long had Marcel known he was in town? And how long had he been following him?

"Thanks," Tyler said shortly. Not that he had anything in the bag really, just some clothes, a few toiletries, his old cell phone and its charger. Nothing significant really, unless Marcel had decided to hack his voicemail.

"The house is all yours," Marcel said, opening his arms in a welcoming gesture. Would he ever stop smiling? "Make yourself at home."

Tyler heard a slight rustle above his head, coming from the attic.

"The attic?" he asked, dropping his gaze back to Marcel who'd heard the same disturbance but looked up as if it was nothing unusual.

"Is prohibited," he said. His smile didn't waver.

"I thought the house was _all mine_," Tyler said, leaning against one of the bed's posts.

"Then imagine the attic isn't part of the house," Marcel suggested. "Any doors you're not supposed to open, you won't be able to open so save yourself some trouble and don't work too hard on them." He nodded his head to the side in a gesture for Tyler to follow him. He did, allowing Marcel to lead him back downstairs to a bar in the corner of the living room filled with antique furniture, made with the kind of very old wood that looked like it may disintegrate on contact.

Instead of withdrawing alcohol, Marcel pulled out a bottle of blood to pour into two glasses. Some spilled on the bar's counter, and Marcel wiped it up with his index finger and sucked it into his mouth, making an appreciative humming sound.

"The kitchen is well-stocked," Marcel said, passing Tyler his glass. "You definitely won't starve. Now," he said, flinging himself down on the sofa, propping his feet up on the arm of the chair, unworried about the age of all these things, "let's talk about Klaus."

Tyler sat awkwardly on the chair across from him, not drinking the glass of blood Marcel offered him. "What about him?"

"What did he do to you?" Marcel asked.

"You don't know?"

"I know what Klaus told me," he said, "but I don't trust his version of events. I know he put you through some real hell, but I need to know your side." He set his glass on the floor, folded his hands on top of his stomach and looked at Tyler expectantly. "So talk."

Tyler put the blood down but he obliged. He told Marcel everything, from start to finish. About being turned into a hybrid, the sire bond, breaking the bond, discovering a pack, losing that pack, losing his mother. He refrained from telling Marcel anything about Caroline or Klaus' obsession with her. If Marcel thought he could get to Klaus through her, he wouldn't hesitate.

When he was finished, Marcel stared at him for a while without speaking. When he finally did, he picked up his blood again and drained the glass. "Interesting," he said, as he stood up. "Well, goodnight." He started walking, and Tyler stood to follow.

"Something happened to me," he said, before Marcel could get too far. Duke and Ronan hadn't left their spots by the door. Tyler could hear the car still idling outside. "I'm missing time. A pretty big chunk of it actually. From tonight."

Marcel arched an eyebrow, intrigued by this newfound development. His shiny new toy, possibly defective? "Go on."

"I went to a club," Tyler explained. "Turbulence. The last thing I remember is sitting down and then...nothing. It's blank. You know anything about that?"

He didn't expect anything from Marcel except a smile. And that was exactly what he got. Tyler was almost proud of himself for learning so fast. "Can't say I do," Marcel said. "Get some rest, Tyler." He got halfway to the door and turned back around. "I don't recommend having friends over."

"Won't be a problem," Tyler said. "I don't have any."

* * *

**Four months ago**

The fax machine whirred and spit as the pages were sent through, signed and initialed, to the lawyer back in Virginia. All the necessary paperwork to make the Lockwood mansion the Donovan mansion and instructions to mail two letters to Matt. One for him and another for Caroline.

The Copy Corral seemed like as good a spot as any to do the work. It was in a small town in North Carolina where Tyler had taken a bus specifically for this purpose. If Klaus attempted to find out where he was, he may find out, but Copy Corral was a long way from where he'd really be - though Tyler hadn't pinpointed exactly where that place would be just yet.

He couldn't go back to Mystic Falls though his entire being screamed for him to do so. Jeremy was dead, and Caroline was leaving him message after message, none of which he could return.

He reminded himself he couldn't do anything for Jeremy now, and Caroline had other people to help her through this. It wouldn't help anyone - especially not him and Caroline - if he went back to Mystic Falls and died there. He couldn't go back. And not going back made him wonder why he was keeping the house.

"Are you sure you want to do this, son?" Alfred Mamet, attorney-at-law and his dad's old college buddy who Tyler recalled having thinning hair and bad breath, had asked when Tyler called him from a payphone asking him to draw up the paperwork.

Tyler had said yes with no hesitation. All his hesitation had been done already. He'd gone back and forth on the bus ride here, wondering if this was really what he wanted. Giving up the house meant giving up what was left of the Lockwood name, giving up what was left of Carol Lockwood and her troubled, hybrid son. What would be left was someone else, something else, a new Tyler Lockwood.

But it wasn't like he was using the house, and he may never see it again. Caroline would be able to go there whenever she wanted. She could even take her mom there with her. They'd be safe from Klaus that way. Matt could use it, too, and finally give up on paying the many bills he was handling at his place. The keeping of the mansion would be handled automatically, the utility companies they used dipping right into his mom's old accounts, which were very, very hefty. Tyler had considered cleaning those out, too. It was his right now that his mom was gone, but he couldn't bring himself to take her money. He had plenty of his own, and it seemed like some kind of betrayal, to take what was hers because she couldn't lay claim to it anymore.

So Tyler waited until the fax confirmation came through before he snatched up the pages and shredded them. Then he exited Copy Corral and bent his steps toward the bus station where he examined the list of departures. Fort Worth, Texas. Washington, D.C. New Orleans, Louisiana. Jacksonville, Florida.

He'd never been to New Orleans before. He'd never been to any of those other places either, but he always heard good things about New Orleans. If he tried hard enough, maybe he could disappear there. It was big enough that there had to be _some_ vampires, enough to make his feeding less noticeable.

On the bus, Tyler sat in the back. He pretended to be listening to his iPod, but it had died weeks ago. He kept going back and forth with buying a charger for it. If this traveling thing was going to become custom, he should at least be able to do it to a soundtrack. If he ended up sticking around in New Orleans, maybe he'd buy a new one, maybe look into getting a job somewhere, one that would pay cash and wouldn't require any information being shared on his part.

There was a vampire sitting in the seat in front of him, talking on her cell phone. She was thin with light brown skin and with a mane of hair streaked with gold. He could smell it on her, what she was, not to mention the scent of her last meal.

"I'm on my way back now," she said. "Marcel's having some trouble with the witches."

"What kind of trouble?" the woman on the other end asked.

"The usual," the vampire answered. "Revolution, shit like that. Nothing that's gonna go anywhere. I'm only going back to see the fireworks. You know how Marcel gets when the witches question his authority."

Marcel. Who was Marcel? Curiosity tugged at him. After a few more seconds, the vampire hung up and started shifting through her bag, withdrawing an MP3 player and headphones.

For a moment, Tyler thought about not asking her. He didn't know what the etiquette was for meeting random supernaturals out and about. When he met Hayley, she took control of their budding friendship - and look how that had turned out.

Before he lost his nerve, Tyler tapped the vampire on her shoulder. When she turned, she raised her eyebrows at him. She'd been distracted before, but she knew what he was now. Maybe she couldn't place it exactly but she could tell he wasn't human, and there was enough vampire in him for her to sense it.

"Um," Tyler began, "I overheard what you were talking about and I..."

She blinked.

"I was wondering who Marcel is."

The vampire snorted. "The King," she answered.

"King of what?"

"The French Quarter," she went on. "Well, that was all he had at first. Now he's got the whole city. All of New Orleans." He could tell he was supposed to be impressed so he hoped his face reflected that.

"And he's a vampire?".

She nodded. "You're going to New Orleans and you don't know about Marcel?" She said like he was five years old and stupid. Compared to her, maybe he was.

"Whatever," she said, "you'll know all about him eventually." She gave him the once over and must have decided he was satisfactory because she extended a hand to him. Her nails were painted a neon yellow. "I'm Lydia."

* * *

**Present Day**

_I don't have any_.

Had truer words ever been spoken?

All his friends were back in Mystic Falls, forgetting about him as they began their college years. Lydia had been a friendly prospect at one point before she'd disappeared, off to do bigger and better things that didn't involve the random kid she'd scrounged up on a bus.

The house itself was nice. Tyler didn't leave, not even to go out onto the front porch, not willing to take the risk. The possibility of running into Klaus on the street was too much. Instead, lingered by the attic door. No amount of wriggling the knob coerced it into opening, and he wasn't about to try it more forcefully than that. It would be hard to hide any damage from Marcel, and Tyler was in no position to be a bad guest.

He did listen at the door. He thought he could make out a steady thrumming sound, muffled like it was underwater or something. He sat there and wondered what - or who - was up there. And what exactly they were doing. Was it an animal? A prisoner? Another ally for Marcel, though obviously not one as cooperative as Tyler? If they couldn't come down, and no one went up, how did it - or he or she - sustain itself? How long had it been there? Why was it there? And why had Marcel put Tyler in a house with it without bothering to tell him what it was or what purpose it served?

Eventually Tyler gave up on that and went looking for food. In the kitchen he discovered what Marcel meant by "well-stocked". Blood bags on blood bags on blood bags, ones of every blood type. A little AB positive in the morning, some O-negative at night. A well-balanced diet. He drank until he was full, sitting down at the long dining room table where he stared at the head of the table where no one sat. He pictured people sitting there, and they took on the faces of his parents - his father, too - and Mason and even Jules. Caroline was there, sitting at Kim's side. He pictured them all eating together, and then he got up and left because the image and the impossibility of it began to annoy him.

Night came and went. Tyler considered watching some television. He hadn't in so long, unwilling to shell out the cash necessary to put one in his old place as finding a job had proved harder than he'd thought. Luxuries weren't something he could afford anymore. His funds, though large, were limited, and he needed to be sure he'd have enough in case of an emergency. But his attempts to watch television were futile. He was more tired than he'd realized.

Laying in bed and waiting for sleep to take him, Tyler considered skipping ahead on his routine of checking his messages. Maybe Caroline had called to tell him what Whitmore was like? He didn't let himself check. Better to wait.

The second day of Tyler's stay, Marcel arrived, this time alone.

"There's nothing in this world more important than family, Tyler," Marcel said, leading Tyler through the courtyard. It was well maintained. Colorful splashes of flowers sprouted from the ground, and from lush, green bushes. The pathway was made of dark grey cobblestones and shielded from the hot sun by lines of thin-trunked trees on either side.

"I don't have any family," Tyler told him. "Not anymore." He remembered the table and the false picture of people he knew gathered around to eat with him, and he got agitated all over again. As Marcel walked ahead of him, he wondered what on him was spelled to keep him from burning.

"You could," Marcel said, turning around. Tyler stopped short where he was walking, feeling as though he was going to wilt underneath Marcel's stare. "I didn't have a family either once. They all died on the plantation. Then I made my own family, got myself a house. I'm living the American dream." He laughed up to the sky, tilting his head back to see the reaching leaves and branches that touched one another above him.

Tyler narrowed his eyes questioningly. He was going to help Marcel. They'd already established that, so why did it feel like Marcel was still giving him the sales pitch?

"I take care of people who take care of me," Marcel said, looking back to Tyler. "I take care of my _family_."

_And one day, Tyler, _he could practically hear Marcel adding, _that could be you. _ _Play your cards right and see where it gets you. _

"If I asked you what was in the attic," Tyler said, looking back to the house where they'd left the doors wide open, "would you tell me?"

Marcel cocked his head to the side and flashed a smile. _No. _

* * *

On the third day, Tyler received no visitors. The sounds from the attic stopped for hours before beginning again, and Tyler only tugged on the door's knob once before calling it quits. He napped for a couple hours after drinking his lunch. When he awoke he tried to make sense of his lost time. There was some paper in a desk in the living room, alongside a grand piano. Once he found a pen he scribbled out what he remembered of the other night. Leaving his apartment, walking toward Turbulence, compelling himself entry (he didn't have enough funds to go paying the cover charge and he always made up for it by paying in full for his drink) and sitting down.

After that he lost it. No matter how hard he tried to figure it out, nothing came to him except a bright pink dress, short and tight though the body to whom it clung was unidentifiable. The green eyes he pictured were disembodied and floating.

_You're alive_. Over and over again. _You're alive. You're alive. You're alive._

Tyler made a list of all the people he'd known who were dead. He began with his great grandmother Leanne Lockwood who died when he was five and stopped when he hit Sarah. The memory of killing her was one he didn't feel like revisiting.

Too many dead people. None of them alive.

In the middle of the night, Tyler heard more sounds from the attic. Something moving across the floor. He got off the couch where he'd fallen asleep in front of a black-and-white movie. Grabbing the remote, he muted the television to hear. There were footsteps moving east to west. Tyler followed them toward the far window overlooking the courtyard, heard more rustling.

The sounds stopped. Tyler stood there for a while longer, hoping they'd start up again. They never did.

Tyler sighed as he looked out over the courtyard, watching the breeze as it caressed the leaves and branches, stirring them just slightly. A spider traversed the window sill without acknowledging his presence though it did pause when he tapped a finger against the glass. Then it resumed its journey and disappeared from sight.

A flicker of movement out of the corner of his eye made him turn his gaze to the left end of the courtyard. He tensed. Anyone skulking through the garden at this time of night probably wasn't a friend.

He thought he saw a figure, willowy and feminine, wearing a skirt that swished against the cobblestones and was lifted by the wind just like the leaves.

But he'd only imagined it because one blink later there was nothing but the swaying tree branches. His deeper look, going to the double doors that led outside and pulling them open, yielded nothing unusual.

Shaking his head at his own gullibility, he went back to the couch.

* * *

**Thanks for reading. And thank you to all of you who have left your very nice reviews. I really appreciate them. **


	4. As Long As It Doesn't Hurt Me

As Long As It Doesn't Hurt Me

Bonnie awoke to her cell phone ringing. Her Klaus Phone (no one else had the number anyway). Originally she thought that would mean it would ring infrequently, but it was always going off for some reason, Klaus wondering what Bonnie knew about _this _or_ that_ or calling her somewhere to do some work, or just making sure she was still around, as if Klaus anticipated that she'd disappear at any moment. Three months later and he still expected her to go running back to Mystic Falls to shout at the top of her lungs that she was alive and had returned to pick up where she'd left off.

"I need you," Klaus said shortly.

Bonnie sighed, flexed her toes underneath her sheets and turned her face toward her curtains. She expected there to be sunlight, but it was still dark. A cursory glance to the digital clock at her bedside read 2:43 A.M. "Where?"

"The cemetery," Klaus answered. "Right away. I've already called a taxi for you."

"Great."

Bonnie didn't rush. She pulled on jeans and a tank top and slipped on some sandals. When she got downstairs, there was a taxi waiting, meter already running. Well, it was on Klaus' dime, not hers. The driver drove her straight to the cemetery, the same one Klaus always called her to.

Cypress Grove had all the usual trappings of a New Orleans cemetery. The above ground tombs, the part grass/part cement pathways, the wrought iron gates surrounding select tombs with entrances paved shut. The tours that walked through during the day had no idea that a few of those tombs had entrances with only the appearance of being shut up and inaccessible. Someone who knew what they were looking for, and had the strength to pick up and set aside one of the doors, would see inside easily.

Bonnie knew which one Klaus was in. The soles of her shoes crunched on the loose gravel, scattering a few wandering bugs as she went. The tomb Klaus liked to frequent was marked Helene Belanger. From what Klaus had told her, she was a witch who'd died in the early 1900s. He said he'd known her, however briefly. Surely she wouldn't mind him putting her tomb to good use.

It was the largest one, built like a small, stone shed. At the top was a stony angel, wings folded across her back and her head bowed in sorrow. Bonnie moved the door with a wave of her hand.

The first person she saw on the other side was Elijah, face illuminated by candles placed in the room's corners. He nodded in greeting when he saw her, and he probably thought it was rude when Bonnie looked abruptly away from him without returning the gesture.

Klaus was on the other end of the tomb, towering over someone kneeling on the floor. This new person was limp and bleeding, hands tied around his back with damp ropes. Vervain, Bonnie assumed. His wounds had already healed, but there was dried blood everywhere, dripping from his mouth and onto the dark front of his shirt.

"I didn't wish to wake you," Klaus said. Bonnie almost laughed. Klaus didn't care about her sleep schedule. He probably just wanted to see what he could beat out of this guy first. "We've exhausted all of our methods of making him talk. There's only so much we can do without _killing_ him. Do you mind?"

He knew she didn't.

* * *

**Three months ago**

"The word on the street," Klaus said, "is that you're dead." Despite being aware of this _word_, Klaus didn't seem surprised to see her. Maybe he just didn't care. There was no reason to. Bonnie was low on his list of priorities these days. Her being alive or her being dead, meant nothing to him either way unless of course she was here to hurt him in which case this could get messy, but that wasn't Bonnie's intention tonight so all would go well, she hoped.

The _word_ had traveled fast. Jeremy hadn't wasted any time in sharing it, as Bonnie expected.

"Yeah," she said. "I'd like it to stay that way."

After she left the school, she hadn't known where to go. She had to think, figure out what to do. She had to leave town _now_. Lingering was a recipe for disaster, but she had nowhere to go and no way to get there. Using her credit or debit cards would alert her dad, but Klaus had money. Lots and lots and lots of money. And he was currently in the midst of a move.

"Intriguing," Klaus commented. "Pray tell, why?"

"I just do," she said. Klaus didn't need details to give her what she wanted. They could - and would - operate under the vaguest of explanations, and they'd be happy that way. "I need your help."

That amused him. "I don't offer my _help_ freely," he reminded her.

"I wouldn't ask for it without being able to pay you in some way," Bonnie said. "And I can."

"With what?"

"My magic," Bonnie said. "I'd be at your disposal."

Klaus raised his eyebrows. He definitely knew the value of a good witch, a strong one, one who would help him willingly. Forcing people was so complicated these days, but here was a witch, and not just any witch, but a Bennett witch, offering any magical assistance he required.

"What would you need from me?" Klaus asked, lifting his chin.

"Take me with you," Bonnie said. "To New Orleans. That's where you're going, right? I need to go."

"Why?"

"I need to leave town," Bonnie said. "You take me with you, and I'll help you do whatever you need done. In exchange, you'll give me a place to stay, a place separate from wherever you'll be staying. You'll give me money. _Lots_ of money, for food, clothes, living in general."

Klaus nodded along. It wasn't anything too much that she was asking for, not when he'd had eternities to build up his savings. "Is that all?" he asked.

"I have conditions," Bonnie said.

He made a face, letting out a breathy sigh. "Of course you do," he said. "Go on."

"You don't tell anyone here that I'm still alive," Bonnie said. "That's a secret that I need kept. So don't tell Caroline."

Klaus seemed amused that she expected him to, but Bonnie knew how he worked. He wanted Caroline, in all her glory, and if he thought he could pull her in with tantalizing hints to Bonnie's survival, he'd do it.

If anyone knew she was still alive, they'd want her back. There was no such thing as leaving her alone, not even when that was what she wanted. They'd find her, they'd need her for _something_, and Bonnie wouldn't be able to say no. Bonnie 2.0 betted on three months. She was at least going to last that long.

"I can do that," Klaus said. "Anything else?"

"Just one more," Bonnie said. "I'll do whatever you need. As long as it doesn't hurt me."

"Define _hurt_."

"If I'm in any kind of mortal danger, if my life is threatened in _any _way, I won't do it," she explained. "If it means pushing myself too far, I won't do it. Otherwise, my magic is your magic."

"Even if it means hurting someone else?" Klaus said, raising his eyebrows. He expected her to hesitate, to refuse, maybe to turn around and leave because that's what she was supposed to do. The old Bonnie Bennett would have. The old Bonnie Bennett didn't hurt people, the old Bonnie Bennett didn't come to Klaus' mansion and ask him for a job.

But the old Bonnie Bennett had died beneath the school bringing Jeremy back from the dead, and the one who was here now had a different idea about what was acceptable.

"As long as it doesn't hurt me," she repeated, "I'll do anything."

Klaus examined her for a while longer before he finally stepped forward and extended his hand. "Then I believe we have a deal."

* * *

**Present Day**

It wasn't the first torture job Bonnie had been assigned. This was the third. The first had just been a test (though the wounds inflicted on the vampire Klaus selected had been real and certainly painful) to see if Bonnie meant what she'd said. The second, the real deal. That vampire hadn't survived the encounter.

_As long as it doesn't hurt me_.

Bonnie wasn't being hurt, someone else was, so surely she was game. Again she'd been struck by the expectation, the one Klaus had, the one Elijah had, the one everyone had. She wouldn't do it. Little Bonnie Bennett, hardcore competitor and winner of all things self-sacrificial, wouldn't magically torture someone just for the assurance of a cushy life in New Orleans paid for by a homicidal Original hybrid with more than a couple of screws loose.

But she'd do it.

She had, twice now, and she'd do it again. If that was what Klaus required, she'd do it. They had a deal.

"What's the point of this little operation?" Bonnie asked. Sometimes Klaus just wanted them to feel pain, from the inside out. Breaking bones and making them bleed didn't do much, not when they'd just heal. And vervain was becoming too typical. It lacked flair, and why sacrifice theatrics when he had a witch on hand? Other times it was less about the torture and more about the information, information that had to be shaken out of them through more sophisticated, more magical, and less...bloody methods.

"Marcel is making plans," Klaus said. "As I told you. This vampire knows them."

"He's having some trouble sharing them with us," Elijah said.

Bonnie took a step toward the vampire. He was broad shouldered and reasonably attractive. He looked a bit thuggish, perhaps chosen more for his brute strength than his intellect. When she got closer, he raised his head to her, and bloody saliva dripped from his mouth on a slow string to land on the floor. Bonnie made a disgusted sound. "Trouble?" she questioned.

"Believe it or not," Klaus said. "All that bleeding he's doing wasn't caused by us."

"He did it to himself?"

"In a way," Klaus said. "Every time he tries to speak to us, he starts coughing up his insides."

So no torture today.

"A spell," Bonnie said, lowering herself to be level with the vampire. The blood stained his chin and neck, his shirt, the floor. He swallowed thickly, painfully. "I'll see what I can do."

She flexed her fingers before putting them against his temples, easing into his mind. She swatted away his discomfort, willed him to relax and smiled as the tension in his body lessened slightly. He wasn't an incredibly cerebral man. Nestled amongst memories of a feeding from last night (the best one he'd had in months) were scores from a football game, a lost bet, a bad fight at the bar the other night, a pretty girl with ink black curls and a sultry smile.

Surface matter, nothing important, not what Klaus was looking for.

Delving deeper, she encountered a blockage of some kind. She pressed against it, and the vampire groaned.

_Sorry_, she almost said.

She found a small space to wiggle through, eliciting another cry of pain from the vampire. She saw the neon sign of Turbulence, Tyler leaving in a hurry, glancing up and down the street before taking off to the east. In the backseat, Marcel urged the driver after him, calling him Campbell.

It was all jumbled, intercut with sharp flashes of blackness. Each flash seemed to cause Campbell more pain. The images became more complicated, blurring around their edges. They were disintegrating as she watched, taking important bits of his mind along with them.

Bonnie pulled out, feeling him shudder beneath her hands. His body was tightly wound again, trembling slightly. The magic worked on him was strong, and the longer she stayed in his head, poking and prodding at things she shouldn't, the quicker he was going to lose whatever sanity he still had.

But she didn't need to look to Klaus to know he was waiting. She didn't know what she'd tell him. To buy herself some time (and to sate her own curiosity) she slipped into his mind again.

More flashes. Marcel's face swam in the distorted cylinder of Campbell's psyche, smiling about something (which in Marcel's case could mean smiling about _anything). _The memory faded, going gray and dissolving into pieces as Marcel's voice became slow and slurred. Whatever he said was impossible to make out.

When she released Campbell's mind and stood, he swayed and sounded a low groan.

Tyler was still alive and would probably be staying that way. If he wanted to kill him and be done with it, or turn him over to Klaus, he wouldn't have spelled Campbell to be unable to speak of it.

"I can't do it," Bonnie said. "I can't get past it. If I do, it'll shatter his mind. I won't be able to get to anything either way."

Klaus glowered in the vampire's direction. "You can't break it?" he asked slowly. He didn't believe her. It wasn't alarming. Klaus never believed anyone right away. Paranoia was his thing.

"I could," Bonnie said, "if I'd been the one to put it in place."

It would have been easy for Marcel to get one of the many witches in town to cast this spell. They'd do it with little in exchange, a little leeway, a little slack on the ropes that bound them. The King could give them anything, and they'd take anything he'd give.

"We could look for the witch," Elijah suggested.

"To no avail," Klaus finished. "Whatever witch did this isn't going to confess it, not if it means Marcel will dole out punishment."

Marcel's punishments were death. No negotiations, no sleeping on it, just death in front of a bloodthirsty crowd downing alcohol while watching their king hand out justice.

"Then he's no use to us," Elijah said, picking up his jacket where he'd neatly folded it on the ground and putting it back on.

"Apparently not," Klaus agreed. He cocked his head to the side. "You say it will drive him mad? Going any further?"

"Yes," Bonnie confirmed.

"Then do it."

Whether he was testing her or just exercising his own ability to be sadistic, Bonnie didn't know. Whatever the reason, she entered Campbell's mind again. She pushed past the barriers, watched more images dissolve. There was a blurry hot pink shape that may have been her. If it was Campbell didn't recognize her now, and even if he did, that revelation would be leaving him soon.

When she was done, when examining his mind was the same as looking into a very deep, very black abyss, Campbell became still. He didn't speak, didn't even seem able to. Klaus stepped forward and lowered his face to his. For a few seconds he watched him. When Campbell's mouth dropped open and saliva fell where it pooled on the toe of Klaus' shoe, he stepped backward.

It all happened very quickly. Klaus took off Campbell's head in a blur, spattering blood with a sickening squelch of detaching skin, muscle and bone. He tossed the head alongside the body like trash. "Burn it, will you?" Klaus said, wiping his hands off on his pants and moving to follow a departing Elijah.

When they were gone, Bonnie conjured flames to burn Campbell. When it was done, she blew out the candles in the tomb with a burst of wind, moved the doorway back into place, and left the cemetery. A taxi was waiting, a different one this time, the meter already running.

* * *

When Bonnie returned to her apartment, she crawled right back into bed and yanked the covers over her head, falling asleep within minutes. She didn't know how long she'd been out when she was awoken by the annoyingly perky chime of her doorbell. With a disgruntled groan, Bonnie turned over, eyes still closed while she willed her visitor to disappear.

When said visitor's only response was to ring the bell again, Bonnie rolled out of bed and went to the door. She looked through the peephole first and let out a sigh as she rested her head against the door. She would have cursed if the vampire on the other side of the door wouldn't hear her and take it as some kind of compliment. She adjusted her clothes and smoothed down her hair. It was inappropriate to look less than decent (and less than completely in control and capable of burning a few vampires into ash) in front of royalty.

"Hello, Bonnie," Marcel said, leaning against the doorframe and looking wistfully up to the threshold, which he couldn't cross.

"Hello, Marcel," Bonnie echoed, mirroring his movement and leaning against the door. He grinned.

That stupid smile. He was already good looking then he wanted to compound it with that grin, one that could almost make a girl forget she was staring at a centuries old vampire and the self-appointed king of New Orleans who'd probably killed hundreds, if not thousands of people in his life, who'd all but bound the magic of every witch in town, save this one.

"You look lovely this morning," he said. "As usual."

Bonnie blinked. If he was going to ask her about Campbell, she had nothing to say. He probably wouldn't ask though. If one of his went missing, he knew where to look, but he could never declare outright war against Klaus. Not yet anyway. Maybe he was getting closer.

"May I come in?" Marcel asked, as if he didn't know the answer already.

"Nope," she answered. "But I'll come out."

Marcel raised his eyebrows, interested. His smile turned into a smirk as Bonnie stepped over the threshold, and he turned to face her as she leaned against the doorframe. In one smooth movement, he leaned over her, inclining his body just enough that he was a bit closer to her than was normal. He'd never been one for personal space.

"What do you want?" Bonnie asked. She wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of moving away from him. It was in Marcel's nature to try to make you uncomfortable. If he succeeded it was like he'd won a game, and he was the kind of winner to carry around his trophy for days, waving it in his opponent's face.

"Something interesting happened a few nights ago," Marcel said casually. So this wasn't about Campbell then. "This kid I've taken under my wing seems to have lost some time. Or had it _taken_ from him."

Bonnie could have laughed. Marcel? Taking Tyler under his wing? Okay. She kept her face passive and aloof. "That's unfortunate."

"My thoughts exactly," Marcel said. "Do you know anything about that?"

She arched an eyebrow. "How would I?"

He wouldn't admit he had Tyler, just in case he was wrong, not when they were standing right outside the apartment Klaus had given to her, not when she was firmly on Team Klaus. If she spoke a word, she could ruin all of Marcel's plans.

"You're the only witch in this city allowed to practice your magic without my knowing about it," Marcel reminded her. "And my new friend definitely had some magic worked on him."

Bonnie lifted her shoulders in a shrug. "Maybe your control is slipping."

"It's not," Marcel said. Licking his lips, he took a small step toward her. Bonnie straightened her back as he got closer, lifting her eyes to his. He raised his arm to rest it on the wall above her head, still staring at her. If he thought he could make her admit to taking Tyler's memories just by looking at her, he was very wrong.

After a few seconds, she saw him relax, the tension leaving his shoulders. Her denial calmed him. If she wasn't admitting it to him, then she wouldn't be admitting it to Klaus either. And Klaus _not_ demanding that Marcel hand Tyler over meant Bonnie hadn't already shared that information. Bonnie almost wanted to go back into the apartment and find her phone to call Klaus and tell him everything, just so Marcel could watch from the doorway as all his secret plans fizzled into nothing. But she didn't. Just because she couldn't help Tyler didn't mean she had to screw him over completely.

At least Marcel was keeping him alive, Klaus would have other ideas.

When she didn't say anything, Marcel sighed. "Well," he said. "Since you don't know what I'm talking about, I guess it won't matter if I tell him about you. You know how I like to talk about you, Bonnie. You're a great conversation piece."

A change in strategy, an odd one. Marcel knew all about her "death". He could share her resurrection, as it was, with Tyler if he really wanted to. What would he say? _You know, Tyler, there's a witch here. Really young, really powerful, risen from the dead. Name's Bonnie Bennett. Ever heard of her_?

Tyler would call Caroline immediately. Caroline would call _everyone, _and Bonnie's sweet little purple apartment would be overrun with people she didn't want to see.

Bonnie narrowed her eyes. She didn't get it, what he was doing, what he wanted her to do. To admit to wiping Tyler's memories? What would that do for him? Give him something to think about when he was unoccupied? She tried the most direct path. "What do you want, Marcel?"

He wasn't a fan of direct, but he still answered her. "He's at the house."

Then he turned on his heel and walked leisurely down the hall, whistling a tune to himself as he went. As he rounded the corner she was just glad she couldn't see the certain smile on his face.

* * *

**Thanks for reading and reviewing! **


	5. Good Luck

Good Luck

Tyler was woken up in the morning by Marcel's laughter, so loud it filled the whole house. What he was laughing at was a mystery, and when Tyler went downstairs Marcel was in the kitchen with Duke and Ronan, all of them smiling (even Ronan who had struck Tyler as the type to remain strong and silent no matter the scenario) at whatever it was that Tyler had missed. Duke, feet propped up on the chair where he sat at the table, had a cowboy hat pulled low over his head, and Ronan's dreadlocks were pulled back into a ponytail.

"What's going on?" Tyler asked, lingering in the doorway with his arms folded across his chest.

"Good morning, sunshine," Marcel said. "We brought you breakfast. It's not as bloody as your usual, but it's tasty. Got it from The Ruby Slipper, nice spot." He started going through a plastic bag on the counter where he sat on one of the stools there, withdrawing plastic containers. Tyler could smell sausage and maple syrup. A closer look revealed pancakes and eggs scrambled with gooey cheese, sausage links and strips of bacon.

"Here," Marcel said, patting the space at the counter next to him. "Sit down. I thought you might be getting sick of what I left for you."

"Well, a little variety in flavor is always appreciated," Tyler said as he sat down at Marcel's side.

"I'll get some more _variety_ in here for you then," Marcel promised.

"You have daylight jewelry," Tyler said nodding to Duke and Ronan basking in the light of the morning sun.

"Just myself and the inner circle," Marcel said, folding his hands on top of the counter. "Helps regulate the feeding. Can't run a city if all its inhabitants are dead and drained." None of them moved to indicate what on them was spelled. Probably better that way.

"I guess you can't," Tyler said, pouring syrup over his pancakes. He ate while Marcel watched. An audience wasn't going to keep him from practically inhaling solid food. Maybe it was the wolf, but the all-liquid diet didn't really do it for him.

"Do you know how to fight, Tyler?" Marcel asked casually.

"I can throw a punch."

Marcel smiled, shaking his head. "Yeah, I'm sure you're really good at small town brawling out back behind the movie theater or wherever it is you liked to spend your time, but that's not good enough. Finish your breakfast. Ronan's gonna teach you."

* * *

Tyler had never considered himself to be_ bad_ at defending himself. He could be worse, he supposed. Being a hybrid, being faster and stronger, definitely helped, but not so much when going up against others who were also faster and stronger. Ronan threw him to the ground more than once, smirking above him and leaving Tyler to stare in a daze up at the bright morning sky.

Marcel laughed heartily from his spot near the door, where he was watching Tyler get his ass kicked up and down the courtyard. "Dust yourself off," he called. "Try it again."

"What exactly is the point of this?" Tyler asked as he stood back up, massaging his stinging knuckles. The few punches he'd landed had left his hands aching, and it didn't help that he kept breaking his fall on them either. He hadn't worked out this hard since football season ended, and he hadn't thought he'd really catch back up on it either.

"I need you ready," Marcel answered, popping an M&M in his mouth. He loved those and had promised Tyler a couple if he did well today, like he was a dog that would do tricks for a treat.

"For what?"

"For a fight," Marcel said. "You think I'm gonna send you out there in the city to do _my _business and not make sure you're prepared? I don't think so."

"What business?" Tyler asked. "I thought this was about Klaus."

"Klaus is the big picture," Marcel said . "Made up of lots of little ones. Relax, Tyler. We'll get started when we get started. We've got time."

"Time?"

"There's something else I need first," Marcel said, not impatiently. Tyler had noticed that Marcel wasn't very quick to anger, or even to annoyance. He just...was. When he got there, you'd know it, but it wasn't broiling beneath the surface like it was with Klaus. Marcel's wrath had to be cultivated before it was let loose while Klaus' was primed and ready all the time, ready to be switched on at any moment.

"What's that?" Tyler asked.

Marcel seemed amused by all his questions. "You'll know when I get it." The doorbell rang, and he glanced over his shoulder. "I bet I know who that is," he said, as he turned back around. "Ronan, take a break. Tyler's got a visitor."

A visitor? Tyler hadn't even realized there was a doorbell, and he certainly hadn't expected anyone to come to the house besides Marcel. The only company he had were the sounds from the attic and those were becoming just another part of the house. Sometimes Tyler didn't even notice them. And it wasn't like he had any friends in town who knew where he was and would come by to say hello.

Marcel went to answer the door. Duke and Ronan unconcerned.

"Who is it?" Tyler asked as Ronan passed him. He didn't answer but joined Duke in a shadier corner of the courtyard.

Tyler heard Marcel open the front door. "Well isn't this a surprise," he said, in the tone of someone who wasn't surprised at all. Then he added, "I was beginning to think you'd forgotten where the place was."

Someone shoved past him, shoes sounding on the floor. "Where is he?" a voice asked. It was familiar. It tugged on his brain insistently. _Remember me. Remember me_. Female and annoyed with no time for Marcel's pleasantries.

"Courtyard," Marcel answered. "You know the way."

Tyler started walking, going back into the cool, air conditioned interior. Neither Ronan nor Duke tried to stop him as he went. He followed the voice, moved closer to the footsteps. He recognized Marcel's gait, slow and casual. The other person was moving at a quicker pace, impatient.

"In a hurry?" Marcel said.

"Shut up," the other voice replied. _Remember me. Remember me._ Tyler moved into the living room, looked toward the archway on the other end. She was just around the corner. Tyler hit the turn just as she did, almost bumping right into her.

Bonnie Bennett with her hair pulled back into a wavy ponytail, a pair of sunglasses on top of her head. He stared at her, looking her up and down, registering her rapidly beating heart and slightly widened eyes.

"You're alive."

* * *

**Three months ago**

Tyler sat outside beneath a giant umbrella in front of the slightly uneven table, his back to the sun which was becoming steadily more blocked by the clouds rolling in, punching buttons on his phone to call his voicemail. Five minutes. He had plenty of time.

_Two unheard messages. First unheard message sent May 27 at 9:07 AM Eastern Time_

"The funeral's today," Caroline said. She wasn't crying. That was something at least, but he almost would have preferred the tears to her contained grief. She sounded empty. "I'm at the boarding house right now. Elena's getting ready upstairs. Damon's here, too," Caroline added.

He heard her disdain. Of all the people Caroline would want there today, with Bonnie dead and her attendance expected at her funeral, was Damon, who'd only say the wrong things and make it worse. Maybe he knew what to say to Elena right now, but whatever he had to say to Caroline would only add to the burden.

If Tyler was there, he thought he might know what to say to her. Or maybe he wouldn't know at all. He pictured her, all in black and standing outside the boarding house with her phone pressed to her ear, looking out at the beautiful day (Tyler had taken to checking the forecasts though he wasn't sure what he expected that knowledge to do for him) and wondering how the universe could bother to look this way on the morning of Bonnie's funeral. He'd give her New Orleans' coming storm if he could.

"Matt's still..." Caroline sighed deeply. "We don't know where Matt is. He's still on his little _trip_ with Rebekah, and no one can get a hold of him. We're waiting for him to call one of us. We keep expecting one. It's been like a week since they left. You think he'd let us know he's alive at least." She stopped suddenly, realizing what she said. When she exhaled, her breath was shaky, but she kept talking.

"Stefan's gone, and Jeremy's...I haven't really seen him since he told us. I think he expected to be seeing her because she's gone, and he can see ghosts and all, but he hasn't seen her. I think-I think he thinks there's a chance she's not gone. Her body...We don't know where it is. We looked for it but..."

Caroline sniffed. "She's dead. I think it really hit me when I got up this morning. No Bonnie. She's not here anymore." A moment of silence to let it sink in, the quiet sound of someone approaching her on the other end. "I have to go, but I'll call you later. I love you."

_End of message. _

_Next unheard message sent May 28 at 1:02 AM Eastern Time_

"I fed on someone," Caroline said, her voice glum. "I didn't kill him, but I almost did. The only reason I didn't was because Elena showed up with _Damon_ telling me how I'm not myself and Bonnie wouldn't want me to do it, and I got _so _mad because we don't know what Bonnie would want because she's dead. Bonnie doesn't want anything because dead people don't want things because they're _dead_."

She sounded like she'd been drinking. It wouldn't surprise him. He hoped she wasn't alone, that someone - anyone - was with her. Maybe she was at the boarding house again, where Elena could keep an eye on her, but more likely than not Caroline was at her house - or at least she was at Tyler's house - mourning by herself because there was no one else to do it with. Maybe the blood was still on her mouth from her feed.

"I can't believe she's gone," Caroline said. She remained quiet on the other end and Tyler wanted to curl up in her silence. She didn't speak again.

_End of message. If you'd like to hear this message-_

Tyler turned his phone off and slid it back into his pocket.

There was a memory tugging at the back of his brain. Before a big game, he was walking around the field going over the plays for the night. He usually ducked out of the locker room, finding it too stifling right before kickoff. Bonnie was out there, too, kicking off her sweatpants to reveal her skirt underneath. He wasn't going to say anything to her at all, but she saw him coming. "Hey," she'd called, all smiles as she began her stretches, "good luck tonight." It was an emptier wish than one she'd have extended to Matt or even any of the other guys on the team, but she still said it. She didn't have to say it.

Everyone had always liked Bonnie, even if they didn't know her. She was sweet and funny and was the only person ( back then at least) who could tolerate Caroline's spirals into manic event planning.

He looked up to see Lydia pushing through the glass doors. She came toward him, latte in hand.

"Why the long face?" she asked, sinking down into the chair across from him. She raised her cup to her lips, not taking her eyes off of him.

"I was just checking my messages."

Lydia scrunched up her nose, her eyes almost invisible behind the dark lenses of her shades. "Bad news?"

"A girl back home died. Her funeral was a few days ago."

"Oh," Lydia said. "I'm sorry. Were you close?"

"Not really," Tyler said, and it made him feel guilty because they should have been closer. He was Caroline's boyfriend, she was Caroline's best friend. When it came down to saving his life or keeping Klaus at bay, she'd saved his life, and in the end they were hardly anything but people who'd known each other their whole lives without really _knowing_ each other. "But she was...nice. She was really nice."

Lydia lifted up her sunglasses to meet his eyes. "Look, you go home, take some time. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Are you sure?" he asked, even though he wasn't really up for their plans. It was mostly going to involve following Lydia around while she did some shopping, but it had seemed like a good idea when she'd suggested it. Now he didn't really want to be anywhere.

"I'm positive," Lydia said, dropping her glasses back into place and flashing a grin. "I'll find you tomorrow." She gave his hand a friendly pat before he stood and left.

* * *

**Present Day**

Tyler didn't know what made him do it. In all his life he couldn't remember ever hugging Bonnie Bennett, but he did. She didn't shove him away so he assumed it was okay, and he felt her touch his back awkwardly with the flat of her hand.

It was probably some lame, pathetic thing related to his being alone in this possibly haunted or at least suspiciously occupied house, owned by the vampire king of New Orleans with no contact with any of the people he'd once called friends. Bonnie being alive after being thought dead probably had something to do with it, too.

Tyler stepped away from her, but let his hands remain on her shoulders. "You're alive," he said again. "I thought..."

Caroline's message had been _more_ than clear. Bonnie was dead, killed doing a spell to resurrect Jeremy. Except she wasn't dead at all.

Bonnie dropped her gaze to the floor then she turned her head to Marcel. "Can you give us a minute?"

For a moment, Tyler thought Marcel may protest. It was _his_ house after all, but he called for Duke and Ronan, who came at once and followed him out. "We'll be back in twenty," he said. Once they were gone, Bonnie looked back to Tyler.

"How are you-" he began, quieted when Bonnie reached up to touch the side of his face. He stilled beneath her hand curiously. "What are you doing?"

Bonnie didn't answer, but he felt pressure. Cool and warm at the same time, she pressed on his brain, handling it with careful firmness. It felt like his mind was being lightly caressed, small and pliable in her hand, artfully manipulated until it gave way beneath her touch.

Images accosted him. The flashing, multicolored strobe lights of Turbulence and a brown skinned girl - Bonnie - walking underneath them in a brilliant hot pink dress. He followed Bonnie on the street, calling her name and realizing it really was her right before she swung him up against a wall and pressed a hand to his head to murmur a spell.

Bonnie dropped her hand back to her side while Tyler swayed slightly. He groped for the wall to hold himself up.

"It's okay," Bonnie said. "It'll stop. Sit down." She touched his shoulder to ease him toward one of the chairs where he sat, blinking rapidly as he tried to will the room to stay still. There was an ache forming between his eyes. He wondered if Marcel had any aspirin around, if aspirin would even work on a hybrid.

"Tyler," Bonnie said, taking a couple steps away from him. "I'm sorry about the memory thing. I just...I panicked, I guess. I didn't want you to tell anyone. You _can't_ tell anyone, especially not Caroline."

Tyler stared at the floorboards. Bonnie was wearing sandals, and her toenails were painted an inky black. Once they stopped revolving, he looked up at her.

"How would I tell Caroline?" he snapped. "I can't call her back anyway."

Bonnie pressed her lips together. She was annoyed with him but trying not to be. After all he was justified wasn't he? She'd manipulated his memories right after he'd found out she was alive. After thinking she was dead for most of the summer.

"At least I know where my missing time went," he grumbled.

"I'm _sorry_," Bonnie repeated. "I didn't want to take the risk."

"So why are you taking it now?"

"I had to before Marcel told you himself," she said, rolling her eyes. "I need you to understand that you can't tell anyone I'm still alive. _Please_."

"Why not?" he demanded. "Are you in trouble?" That would make sense. They were always in trouble. Maybe someone was after her, threatening her.

Bonnie laughed a little. "No. I'm not in trouble."

"Then what?" Tyler asked.

"It's complicated," she answered. "I'm here because I want to be, and that's all you need to know."

"And you being alive is a big secret," Tyler added. "Right?"

"Right."

A secret from Caroline, Elena, Jeremy and Matt. Even from her parents. From everyone. He couldn't wrap his head around it. The Bonnie he'd known (he hadn't known her well, but he did know her) wouldn't skip town and let everyone believe she was dead, wouldn't let there be a funeral and let her friends mourn her death. Caroline's voice, her tears and then her silence echoed themselves in his ears. The Bonnie he'd known wouldn't have let that happen.

"Why?"

"It's none of your business _why_," Bonnie said, standing up and turning her back to him in annoyance. He expected her to leave at any moment, agitated with him and his questions. As much as he expected it, he hoped she didn't.

"Bonnie," Tyler said, careful to keep his agitation out of his tone. He didn't want to run her away. "Sit back down, we can talk some more."

"I don't have anything else to say," she said though she turned back around to look at him.

"Where are you staying?" he asked. "Do you have some place to stay?" He didn't know what he could do for her if she didn't. But judging by her clothes, by her perfectly painted toes and nails, she was far from homeless.

"I have an apartment," Bonnie said. She didn't elaborate any further.

"Of your own?" Tyler asked, laughing a little bit. "I was basically living in a closet before I ended up in here. How'd you swing that?"

Bonnie inhaled deeply, like she was considering not telling him the answer. Then she reclaimed her seat. "Klaus is paying for it."

The cold heat returned, burning in the tips of Tyler's fingers.

"Klaus?" he said skeptically. He watched her face closely, looking for a slight twitch, a barely there collapse of the muscles into some kind of smile. Something playful, amused, _joking._ But there was nothing. Bonnie's expression remained stoic.

"You're here with _him_?" Tyler said slowly.

"Yes."

"Are you..._with_ him?"

Bonnie rolled her eyes in irritation. "No. I'm just working for him."

"You're working for Klaus?" Tyler said. He felt the need to repeat it, just to make sure. It all sounded so crazy. Bonnie and Klaus, in the same city, Bonnie in an apartment Klaus was paying for, Bonnie alive while all their friends thought she was dead and Klaus knowing all along.

There were a lot of things he could have imagined her saying but that she was helping Klaus with whatever plans he had now wasn't one of them. In fact, it was near the bottom of that list of hypothetical scenarios.

Bonnie folded her arms across her chest and leaned away from him. "I like to think I'm making Klaus work for me," she said.

"Do you really?" Tyler said sarcastically. "How's that going for you?"

"Pretty well actually," she snapped. Then, sounding like it required great effort, she spoke more gently. "Are you going to tell?"

"No," Tyler sighed. "I'll keep your secret. I won't tell anyone, especially not Caroline." But he could imagine telling her, imagining how happy she'd be. She'd come to New Orleans in a heartbeat. Tyler wondered if Bonnie would find it so easy to dodge all these questions if Caroline was the one asking them.

Relief crossed her face, and she sat up a little straighter. "Thank you," Bonnie said before she stood. "I have to go. Marcel will be back soon."

"Do you know what he wants with me?" Tyler asked. She was familiar, with Marcel, with the house. Out of the two of them, Bonnie had more answers.

"No," she said. Then she swallowed. "I'm not going to tell Klaus about you being here. So you don't have to worry about that."

"I wasn't worried," he said honestly.

Bonnie didn't say anything, but she answered with a tight smile before she turned and started toward the door.

Tyler stood to follow her, hanging back at the front door as she pushed her sunglasses down over her eyes and took the left-hand stairs down to the stone path.

"Hey," he called, before she could get too far. He couldn't see her eyes behind her glasses when she turned around to look at him. He didn't even know if she was really looking at him. "Can I see you again?" He could already see the refusal in the fold of her lips and he backtracked appropriately. "I mean, I know I can't. If Klaus found out...well. Never mind. It was just good to see you. I haven't seen anyone from home in so long, and I miss it, I guess..."

He used to make fun of that town and talk about going to college on an athletic scholarship. There was a time when all he wanted to do was distance himself from Mystic Falls and his dad and their stupid Founders' events. Now all he wanted to do was go back, even though most of the things that made it home were gone.

"I don't," Bonnie said. A beat passed where Tyler dropped his gaze to the ground because he didn't know what else to do. Finally, she said, "Good luck." Then she turned and walked away, going down the street without a second glance.

* * *

**Thanks for reading and reviewing! **


	6. Cold War

Cold War

Bonnie could have taken a cab, but there she was, walking again. Was she going to do this after every awkward Tyler encounter? Just start speed walking away? _Of course not_, _I won't be seeing Tyler again_. Whatever Marcel wanted with him, that was his business, as everything she had going on was hers. She had a very temperamental Original to deal with, and she wasn't about to sort out Tyler's Marcel drama for him. And there was really no reason for them to cross paths again, not if Marcel wanted to keep Tyler off of Klaus' radar.

Tyler had seemed genuine when he said he wouldn't tell Caroline about her, not that he could. Contacting Caroline would alert Klaus, but maybe not. Klaus was here in New Orleans, not sniffing after Caroline in Mystic Falls. Tyler's reason to remain radio silent was gone, but he'd said he wouldn't say anything. Since wiping his memories again was off the table, she had to put some faith in his word. But she was concerned.

"Bonnie!"

Marcel's voice had become annoyingly familiar to Bonnie since she'd gotten to New Orleans. Shaking her head slightly, she pretended not to hear him and kept walking. He wouldn't give up, she knew that much, but she hoped she'd aggravate him a little bit with her steady pace.

"Bonnie!" Slightly annoyed, mostly amused, still following.

She had to stop at a crosswalk and turned around, resigned to being caught up to. Marcel smiled at her stillness. "Didn't hear me calling you, huh?"

"Nope, sorry," she answered. "What do you want?"

"You left before I got the chance to talk to you.'

"That was intentional."

When the signal switched to walking, Marcel went with her. "It's been awhile since I've walked anywhere."

Bonnie didn't respond.

"I'd prefer to drive," he went on, "but I'm missing a driver." She remained silent, not even looking in Marcel's direction. "I'd known Campbell for fifteen years. He was a good guy."

Bonnie turned her head to look at him, glad for the barrier her sunglasses provided. "Who?"

"Okay, Bonnie," Marcel said breathily, with a smirk, "play dumb if you want."

"Don't know what you're talking about," she said, glancing from side to side before she started across the next street, toward the stop for the streetcar. She could see it in the distance, and she dug around in her bag for change as she stood near the post.

"I've got it," Marcel said, shuffling through his pockets.

"I didn't realize kings _jangled_," Bonnie said. _How undignified. _

"Apparently we do," Marcel said, counting out the amount as the streetcar came to a stop in front of them. When they climbed on, Marcel dropped the fare in for both of them and followed her to a pair of seats near the back.

"I thought you'd actually _like_ seeing Tyler," Marcel said, as he sat down at her side. "He was _very_ happy to see you."

Not once in the entire time they'd known each other had Tyler ever hugged her. She couldn't remember the last time Tyler had _touched_ her. Well, he'd threatened her when Klaus was in his body, but that didn't seem like it should count. He'd been happy to see her, just as happy as he'd been to see her when he followed her from Turbulence, and he'd looked so dejected when she'd left the house that she almost felt bad for him.

_You're alive_, he'd said, his voice full of...something. Something so elated and so relieved and so-

_Yeah, you're alive,_ Bonnie 2.0 said, _let's keep it that way. You've got a good thing going. Don't fuck it up just because Tyler Lockwood puts on his sad face and seems to give a shit about you for five seconds. _

"Since Campbell's gone," Marcel said, "maybe I'll start taking the streetcar more often."

Bonnie kept her gaze fixed out the window, at the road and the passing cars. It was a hot day, but there was a breeze that kept it from being unbearable. "Tyler doesn't have anything to do with this," she said, against her better judgment. "Don't hurt him." She could practically hear Bonnie 2.0's aggravated curses now.

Marcel shifted beside her, surprised by her declaration. "_I_ won't. I like him."

Bonnie turned to look at him. "And how many people who you _liked_ have you killed?"

"Not that many. In fact, I'm pretty sure you've killed more people I've liked than I have. Tyler's perfectly safe with me. He's under my protection now."

Bonnie 2.0 told her to accept that. It was good enough. Tyler wasn't exactly helpless. If things went south, he could at least put up a fight, but it wasn't Bonnie's job to fight for him. She was done fighting for other people.

"You could be perfectly safe with me, too," Marcel said, so suddenly it stunned Bonnie out of her thoughts.

But there it was. The Bennett witch willing to sell her magic. Hot commodity, powerful weapon, compliant tool. Marcel had a city full of witches who'd rise up and crush him if they ever got the chance, but Bonnie was _the_ witch. Any witch was better than no witch at all, and a Bennett witch was better than all the rest. But she was with Klaus.

Bonnie shook her head slightly, trying not to laugh as Marcel continued. "You'd like it on my team," he said. "It would be nice, you've gotta admit, getting to work for a man you don't completely despise. I can provide you with the same things Klaus does: money, an apartment, whatever and _whoever_ you desire, whenever you desire it."

"Who said I don't despise you?"

Marcel made a face, right eyebrow raised in amusement, lip curved upward into the slightest of smiles. If she gave it a few seconds it would transform into a full blown grin. She considered punching him. Setting him on fire on the streetcar wouldn't do, but punching him was fair. It probably wouldn't even make him angry. He'd just laugh, massaging his stinging jaw for a little while then he'd criticize her form and offer her some lessons on how to throw a real punch.

It seemed that no matter what she did, no matter what anyone did in their interactions with Marcel, he always walked away happy. The only time Bonnie had seen that go in the opposite direction was when Klaus was involved. He had a real talent for getting under Marcel's skin.

"Bonnie," Marcel said, leaning onto the seat in front of them, "actions speak louder than words, and your actions have been _deafening_." He wiggled his eyebrows at her. "There'll be a party at the house the day after tomorrow. I want to make Tyler feel at home."

"That's generous of you."

"I'm a generous guy," Marcel said. "Around the usual time. You're invited, as is Klaus. Pass along the message?" He reached up to tug on the rope above their heads, signaling his desire to disembark.

Klaus wouldn't go to Marcel's party. He'd given up on them within a week or two of their arrival, but he'd definitely send Bonnie just to keep an eye on things. Marcel knew that, too.

So much for not seeing Tyler again.

"If you change your mind about joining the team, you know where I am," he said, standing up as the streetcar came to a stop. "Enjoy the rest of your day, Bonnie." She watched him bound easily out of the car and onto the street, and she purposefully looked away from the window as he stood outside, smiling at her.

* * *

**Three Months Ago**

In an unexpected display of chivalry, Klaus held the door to the bar open for Bonnie, ushering her inside. She didn't thank him for it. Inside there was quite the gathered crowd, watching a man onstage perform. He was dark skinned and tall, wearing an incredibly tight t-shirt and jeans, walking up and down the small stage with a microphone in hand belting out the words to "How You Like Me Now?"

Karaoke.

Bonnie remembered a time when she used to like that, when she'd drag Elena and Caroline to the Grill for the monthly karaoke nights and insist on them singing with her. Caroline always went along with it with enthusiasm, but Elena always took some prodding though she gave in eventually.

_No_, Bonnie thought. _Don't think about it_. Thinking about Mystic Falls right now would only make her want to go back. The best course of action was to _not_ think about it. Instead she thought of the sunny day and the relentless sun, the very enthusiastic cabbie who'd dropped them off at their current location (The Sainthood Bar & Grill) cheerily pointing out the landmarks they passed.

Klaus guided her over to the corner where they sat at the table to watch. "That's Marcel."

"Fun guy," Bonnie commented as Marcel went into the next verse, working the crowd as if they'd actually paid to watch him.

"Yes, the _funnest_," Klaus said, his tone loaded with disdain. He'd filled her in on a little bit on the flight. Now she knew that Klaus had his eye on a big prize, the city of New Orleans, which he expected to take from the man currently controlling it, former protégé Marcel who wasn't wound half as tight as Klaus was judging by this particular display.

"I don't see why you don't just kill him," Bonnie said. "Big bad Original hybrid can't take out a younger vampire?"

"I could," Klaus said, "but that wouldn't get me what I want. He's the King of New Orleans. He's got a lot of people in his corner. So far I have you and my brother."

Or so he said, but there had to be something else here that made Klaus want to be there, something more than just wanting to take New Orleans from its king. It seemed like quite a bit of trouble to go through just because he was jealous of Marcel's toys. Whatever it was, Klaus wasn't in a hurry to share it with Bonnie. But he would still be recruiting, looking for anyone who could be swung to his side. It shouldn't be too hard. Marcel might have been the King, but up against his much older sire, who was closer to being truly immortal than anyone else in this bar, he wouldn't hold up long. Self-preservation alone should be enough to draw some people to Klaus' cause.

"So why am I _here_?" Bonnie asked.

"You have to meet him," Klaus said. "We have some hoops to jump through."

"Hoops?"

"Hoops," Klaus confirmed. "It's a bit hard to notice at first, but Marcel has a tight grip on the magical community."

Bonnie lifted an eyebrow. Well here was something they hadn't covered on the flight where she'd fallen asleep after Klaus had finished with all his exposition. Surprisingly he hadn't bothered her until they'd landed then he'd shaken her awake. "What does that mean?"

"Witches aren't permitted to practice magic here."

"_Permitted_?"

"If they do, Marcel sees that they suffer for breaking his rules," Klaus says. "I caught a display myself when I was last here. It's all very dramatic."

"So just your style," Bonnie commented.

Klaus smiled. "I taught Marcel everything he knows."

Bonnie turned her head to watch Marcel finish up his little show, hopping off the stage to the cheers of the gathered crowd. "Did you teach him how to do that?"

Klaus leaned back in his seat. "He picked that up on his own." He raised an arm and called to Marcel who looked toward them, his smile only getting wider. Once he had a drink in his hand, he came over and grabbed a chair, turning it backwards so he could straddle it.

"You're back," he said, extending a hand to Klaus who shook it with an unusual amount of friendliness, his mouth spreading into a smile. He was a better actor than Bonnie had expected.

"That I am," Klaus said. "Do you know any other songs, Marcel?"

Marcel let out a lighthearted laugh. "It's a crowd pleaser. So how was that little town you told me about?"

"Still standing," Klaus said.

"Glad to hear it," Marcel said, swinging his head in Bonnie's direction. "Who's your friend?"

"Allow me to introduce Bonnie," Klaus said, nodding his head to her. "Bonnie _Bennett._"

Marcel's gaze flickered in understanding before he finished off his drink. "That's interesting," he said, licking his lips and setting the glass down where he passed it between his hands with lightning quick precision. "We haven't had the pleasure of hosting any your bloodline in the city for awhile."

"I wonder why," Bonnie said. The whole prohibiting magic thing probably wouldn't go over well with any Bennett witches. In fact she would have been a little disappointed to learn there were some of her bloodline, the one she kept being told was super powerful and super important, were in the city living in fear and denying their own birthright.

_Like you have any room to talk_, Bonnie 2.0 said bitterly, her voice like a hard slap to Bonnie's psyche.

No, she really didn't have any room to talk. She knew all about letting vampires have all the power.

Marcel took the chance to turn his dazzling smile Bonnie's way. "No wondering necessary."

"Bonnie's here because she's working with me," Klaus said.

"Really?" Marcel said, leaning back in his seat and glancing back and forth between the two of them. "I didn't think you got on that well with witches, Klaus."

"I get on with them much better than you do," Klaus said. The smile he shot in Marcel's direction wasn't as flawless as the last. She detected a hint of malice behind it, but If Marcel thought Klaus was being anything other than friendly, he didn't show it.

"You'd be surprised how well I can get along with witches," he said.

"When you're not keeping them from practicing magic, you mean?" Bonnie chimed.

"Yes, that's exactly what I mean," Marcel said, his dark eyes still stuck on her. His gaze dropped to her chest. Then lower. Bonnie rolled her eyes and looked pointedly to Klaus who either didn't notice or didn't care that Marcel was ogling her.

If Caroline were here, if she subtracted Marcel's connection to Klaus and the weird hold he had on the witches in New Orleans, she might tell Bonnie to go for it. Elena would shake her head slightly and roll her eyes and tell Bonnie to do whatever she wanted, no pressure, but she wouldn't deny that Marcel was good looking. A different good looking from the hometown heroes of Mystic Falls, the kind of attractive that had put spotlights on Damon and Stefan immediately, the kind of attractive that should be on the covers of magazines instead of sitting here talking to Bonnie and Klaus. Caroline and Elena would be having a field day. Bonnie reminded herself that they were now part of her past, a past she'd determined she wasn't going back to. All the boring looking boys of their class were even further behind. But that just made Bonnie think of Jeremy and how he hadn't been bland at all.

"That's good to hear," Klaus said, "because I need Bonnie practicing."

"Now's not the best time, or place, for negotiating," he said, glancing over his shoulder to the other patrons who were uninterested in their conversation. They were a blend of humans and vampires, though the humans were significantly greater in number and didn't appear to have any idea the kind of creatures they were drinking with this evening.

"So when?" Klaus said with a hint of menacing impatience.

He was so used to getting what he wanted. The fact that Marcel had yet to hand over his approval, written in his own bloody signature, was probably eating Klaus alive. Here was Marcel, the former student and Klaus the displaced and unnecessary teacher. Some respect was owed, of course, but Marcel was withholding and was unfazed by Klaus' annoyance. Anyone else would have hurried to cool down his simmering temper, but Marcel grabbed a napkin and pulled a pen from one of his pockets to write on it.

"I have a house in the Garden District," he said. "Meet me there tomorrow night. Let's say around nine? We'll have dinner, and we can discuss the conditions of your residency in the city, and I'll make you familiar with how things are done around here. At the end of this conversation, once I've gotten to know you better, I'll decide whether or not you'll be allowed to practice. Sound good?"

He slid the napkin across the table to Bonnie who didn't move to accept it. She stared down at his neat print, aware of his eyes on her.

"Is that really necessary?" Klaus asked, drawing Marcel's gaze away. "I can vouch for her."

"Klaus, I trust you," Marcel said, "but witches are complicated. If they weren't, we wouldn't be in our current position. I can't have any magic running around unchecked. All I'm asking for is a conversation. If I think I can trust her, then you've got yourself a practicing witch who won't have any problems from me."

"And if you can't trust me?" Bonnie asked.

"Then you'll be subject to the same rules as your fellow witches," Marcel said. "I'll be aware of all magic you perform and any prohibited magic will mean punishment."

Also known as death.

Bonnie wondered if any of those witches Marcel had under his thumb had ever tried to kill him. She was sure they had, but why had they failed?

She reached for the napkin. "I'll see you then."

Marcel's face relaxed into a smile. "Can't wait. Now excuse me. I've got business to handle." He called out to two men at the bar - one in a cowboy hat and dripping in jewelry and the other with long dreadlocks and a stoic expression - named Duke and Ronan, and they left the bar together.

"He'll try to sleep with you," Klaus said.

Bonnie cut her eyes to him, finding him practically glaring at her. "_Try_ being the operative word."

Klaus chuckled lightly, the tension leaving his eyes instantly. "You can have sex with him if you'd like. You should have some fun. I know how trying faking your own death must have been for you."

Bonnie ignored the dig. "I didn't realize I needed your permission."

"You don't," he assured her. "I don't care what you do in your free time, Bonnie, as long as it has no effect on your loyalty to _me_. You can sleep with this entire city if you want to as long as you remember who brought you here. As long as you're available when _I_ need you, as long as your allegiances lie with _me_, we're fine. Contrary to popular belief, I'm not hard to please."

"Good to know. How's the apartment hunt going?"

"Elijah already found one," Klaus said. "He's waiting for us there. He's assured me you'll find it acceptable. If you don't, we can make changes."

"Then let's go see it."

* * *

**Present Day**

Bonnie passed a jewelry store on her way back to the apartment, and she stopped to look through the window at the items on display, long strands of jewels, rings, necklaces, bracelets, various jewels that shone and glittered. She told herself to move on. She had plenty of jewelry back at the apartment, but she stayed where she was. Her second day in town Klaus had given her his credit card to use (just until he could set up a checking account for her) and told her to go get whatever she needed. The limit was so high he hadn't even bothered to tell her what it was, and even after she spent the whole day buying clothes, shoes and various accessories, she still hadn't reached it. She'd expected Klaus to come by and make some snide remark about her valiant attempt to put him into debt within a matter of hours, but he never commented. And her fairly large stipend was deposited every other Monday without a word of acknowledgement from Klaus.

"See something you like?" Klaus asked. He emerged from the passing people to join her at the window. She didn't even startle at his appearance. She'd gotten used to him coming out of nowhere to greet her, like they were old friends or something, like him showing up was a natural, and even welcome, occurrence. Maybe he was on some kind of schedule. Irritate Bonnie at noon, move onto Elijah at one, some unsuspecting woman on the street by two thirty and so on and so forth. Then start the cycle up again tomorrow

"That one," Bonnie said, pressing a finger to the glass, pinpointing an oval shaped ruby, on the smallish side but circled by glittering diamonds. She'd bought a black dress a few weeks ago that it would look perfect with.

She'd forgotten how easy it was to think about mundane thing like jewelry, back when she was in Mystic Falls and all she had time for was thinking about how to keep everyone alive. Even then she hadn't succeeded in staying alive herself. And she didn't even have any expensive pieces of jewelry to show for it.

"Pretty," Klaus commented dryly. "I saw you on the streetcar with Marcel. What did he want?"

_Oh, nothing, _she thought. _He just wants to take this cold war we're engaged in a little further. He's got Tyler on his side now, the same Tyler you swore to rip to pieces, and now he wants me_.

"The usual," she said.

"Flirting again?" Klaus said, putting his back to the glass and looking at the people passing them by.

"That's Marcel," Bonnie said. "Annoying, persistent, thinks too highly of himself for his own good, and he's truly confused at the concept of someone _not_ wanting him around. Something he learned from you, I'm sure." He cracked a smile, and she turned away from the window as well, leaning against it at his side. "Any idea what he's planning?"

"I was going to ask you the same thing," Klaus said, fixing her with his cool stare. From what she could tell he didn't suspect that she knew anything important. It actually seemed like he was just asking. "You'd think you'd be able to turn his fascination with you into something helpful."

"You'd think that," she agreed. "He's having a party at the house the day after tomorrow. You're invited."

"I won't be going."

"I figured you wouldn't."

"But you will."

"I figured that, too."

"I have something I may require your help with," he said, "but that can wait."

"It can?"

"I'm still pondering alternatives," he said. "In the mean time, you focus on Marcel. Go to the party. Buy yourself something nice to wear. Perhaps that necklace you were admiring."

"Looks a little out of my price range."

"Even with what I'm paying you?" Klaus asked.

"I like to spend my money."

"Try saving it," he suggested.

"Interested in giving me an advance?"

"Not especially," he said, a smile teasing at his lips. He glanced down to his watch. "I have to go. If I don't see you before the party, do enjoy yourself, love."

* * *

**Thanks for reading and reviewing! **


	7. Lessons

Lessons

"It'll be small," Marcel assured Tyler. They were sitting in the living room, Marcel eating from a bag of M&M's (Marcel's favorite candy), and Tyler watching. "Just the inner circle. You'll be safe. You might even have fun."

Tyler wasn't as worried about his safety as he just wasn't in the mood for a party. But it was Marcel's house, despite his assertions that it was Tyler's home now, and he couldn't exactly argue with him.

"Bonnie will be there, too," Marcel added, in a tone that was obviously meant to be enticing for Tyler. It annoyed him that the prospect of seeing Bonnie again, despite her obvious wishes for the opposite, excited him.

The summer Tyler turned eleven, his parents sent him to a football camp in Richmond where he hadn't known anyone except for Danny Lewis, who Tyler used to pretend didn't even exist. But surrounded by strangers, Tyler had attached himself to Danny, who was more annoying than Tyler had realized. Still, better a familiar stranger than a complete one.

He could feel it happening again, could feel himself reaching for Bonnie, to latch on to the one thing that felt like home. He told himself not to do it, and he replayed Bonnie's cold words and the feral look in her eyes when she'd wiped his memories. Still he thought about it, how nice it could be, to hang out with someone who knew where he came from.

"Why?" Tyler asked.

"Because I invited her."

"But why is she coming?" She didn't want to see him, and Tyler doubted she wanted to see Marcel. Why spend a night with them when she could be dancing around Turbulence instead?

"Because Klaus isn't. She'll be his eyes and ears," Marcel answered.

Tyler bent his fingers, heard the quiet cracking of the bones. It would be nice if he could go without feeling like his bones were trying to break through his skin whenever he heard mention of Klaus. It had been so long since he'd heard his name spoken so frequently.

"Don't worry," Marcel said. "Klaus definitely won't be here."

"Yeah, I heard you the first time."

Marcel's eyes widened in amusement. Then he chuckled, popping another M&M into his mouth.

"He was your mentor, right?"

Marcel gave his head a quick nod. "Mentor and sire."

"But now you're going against him."

"No," Marcel corrected. "He's going against _me_. This is _my _city. Not his. Klaus left to go chasing after his dream of being the first hybrid. I stayed put, and I built myself a kingdom. _I_ did that. There used to be werewolves here, a threat to myself and to every vampire here. They're gone now. The ones who survived left nearly one hundred years ago, and they haven't returned. The witches are under control. I did all that. Not Klaus.

"Imagine that you've poured your heart and your soul, every fiber of your being, every drop of blood you could spare, into something. Imagine that someone shows up and plans to take that from you. Now tell me what you'd do."

"I wouldn't let them."

"And you shouldn't," Marcel said. "Don't let anyone take what's yours. Klaus thinks he gave me something when he turned me. Vampirism was a gift, that's true. Immortal life, incredible strength, unimaginable power. I went from being at the bottom of the food chain to the top. Klaus turned me, but he didn't _make_ me. He didn't make you either."

He poured more of the little candies into his hand and put them into his mouth. "These are so good," he mumbled. Then, "You know who made vampires? Who made Klaus?"

"A witch."

Marcel snapped his fingers. "Witches make the world go 'round."

"That's why you don't let them practice."

"Exactly. If I did, I wouldn't be where I am right now. Don't ever underestimate a witch, Tyler."

Tyler was learning all kinds of lessons today. "Speaking of witches," he said. "I've got a question for you."

"Ask."

"Your plans against Klaus," he began, "do they involve hurting Bonnie? Because if they do, I'm out."

"You're _out_?" Marcel said, eyebrows raised curiously. "Just like that?"

"Yeah," Tyler said. "I won't help you if you're gonna do something bad to her."

He almost told Marcel how Bonnie had saved his ass a couple of times, but he held that back. It seemed like fairly innocuous bit of information. It didn't require specifics, just a broad sense of appreciation and lingering gratitude for this Bonnie who didn't seem to be very much like the one he'd known back in Mystic Falls. Marcel's little speech seemed a bit too convenient, a manipulation to lower Tyler's guard. Maybe it was, maybe it wasn't, but if it was Tyler wasn't about to fall right into it. Marcel wasn't his friend, and Tyler wasn't about to forget it.

"I don't want to hurt her," Marcel said. "The opposite actually. Which is where I'll need your help. I need you to convince Bonnie to join the team. I can't proceed without her."

"I know you skipped out yesterday to give us our _privacy_," Tyler said, "but she doesn't want to see me, doesn't want to talk to me. I don't think I'm the right guy for this one."

"You are."

"Why can't you do it yourself?"

"I would if I could, and believe me, I've tried. Worked my best stuff on her," he said. "Didn't take."

"That must have been awkward," Tyler commented which earned him a grin from Marcel.

"Stung a little, I'll admit."

"If you did your best, what do you think I'll be able to do?"

"Remind her of home."

"She doesn't want to be reminded of home."

He didn't blame her. If Tyler could forget about home, maybe it would be better. Nostalgia was like a paralytic. He didn't do anything, didn't think of anything but home. He thought about his house, about Caroline, about his locker (prone to jamming) and going to the Grill after school every day. It didn't help him at all, but he couldn't let it go.

"Doesn't mean you can't remind her anyway. Just do it, Tyler."

"I'll see what I can do," Tyler said finally. Marcel's face relaxed into a smile. "Why do you let her practice? You know if she works for Klaus and Klaus wants the city for himself, that he's going to use her to get it. So why let her?"

"I couldn't tell Klaus that he couldn't have a witch of his own, could I?" Marcel said. "Not without making him suspicious. And besides, Bennett witches aren't like the rest. Anyway," Marcel said, glancing down to the face of his watch. "Don't worry about that. I've got it covered, and...I've gotta go. I'll be back tonight. Make sure you're ready for some fun. Duke'll be stopping by. He's bringing you some clothes."

Before Tyler could ask Marcel what was wrong with the clothes he had (all three outfits) Marcel was walking away.

* * *

With Marcel gone, the house was quiet except for the occasional bump and rattle from the attic. In Tyler's bedroom, the sun spilled through the window and even after he closed the curtains, the mere leakage of sunlight was there, splaying itself across the floorboards. It annoyed him to see it, though he couldn't begin to explain to himself why. Duke came by as Marcel said, dropping off several shopping bags before leaving again, telling Tyler he'd see him tonight.

T-shirts, jeans, button-downs, shoes, jackets that Tyler wouldn't even need in this heat, two watches (both Swiss and looking very similar to the one Marcel wore), bottles of cologne, even a charcoal colored suit.

There were worse situations to be in, Tyler supposed. Having the vampire king of New Orleans putting him up in a nice house and footing the bill for anything Tyler required - and a few things he really didn't - wasn't so bad. Maybe this was how Bonnie felt, working for Klaus and not having to want for anything.

Once he put everything away, he pulled his duffel bag from under the bed and dug out his phone. It was another shiny and new Thursday.

_One unheard message sent August 14 at 7:32 PM Eastern Time_

"Hi," Caroline said, sounding happy. Tired but happy. It had been a slow return to her usual self after Bonnie's death. Or rather, Bonnie's _not _death. "So Elena and I are all moved in. The room's really cute. I mean, it's like the half the size of my room back home and both of us are in it, but it's nice. Elena's saying goodbye to Damon and Jeremy so I thought I'd call. It's weird that you're not here. And it's weird that Bonnie's not here."

Tyler wondered what she'd say, if he called her right now and told her that Bonnie was alive and well in New Orleans, that he'd seen her with his own two eyes, wrapped his own two arms around her, had his own memories erased by her. She'd be happy, beyond happy even. Maybe a little angry. Confused, too. Maybe if Caroline was the one doing the asking about Bonnie's reasons for being here, Bonnie would actually answer.

"Everything was supposed to happen differently," she sighed. "I hope you're doing okay, wherever you are. I know I told you when I found out, but in case you forgot, I'm in Danby Hall, Room 403. If you're ever around, I'd love to see you."

She knew what a slim chance that was, that he'd be able to come back. She didn't even know what a close call his return for prom had ended up being, but she sounded so hopeful about it.

Tyler heard Elena's voice then her lapse into silence when she realized what Caroline was doing. "I have to go now," Caroline said. "We got invited to a party by the girls next door, and you know how long it takes me to get ready so. I'll call you later."

Tyler turned off the phone and put it back in the bag. He wondered how that party had gone which made him wonder how this one was going to go.

* * *

**Three Months Ago**

"You wanna pick?" Lydia asked, nodding her head toward the people walking the streets outside the casino, its golden lights illuminating the street, packed with people despite the dark sky and the late hour.

"No, you go ahead."

Lydia shrugged and scanned the people who passed them without looking their way. Tourists walking back to their hotels after the riverboat cruises or losing all their money on the slots. They walked in twos and threes, laughing and cheery, unaware of the predators watching their every step.

It was Tyler's first feed here, the traditional way anyway. Lydia had been trying to get him to come out with her to sample some of the tourists, but Tyler had chosen instead to make himself familiar with the nearby hospitals, compelling himself entry to snag some blood bags. But the nurses and security staff were being asked questions by the higher-ups about the disappearing blood, and Tyler felt bad about costing someone their job. So he accepted Lydia's offer, and she'd happily brought him out with her tonight.

"Don't see any I like," Lydia said, sounding disappointed. "Well, now's as good a time as any to tell you what the rules are." She shifted on the bench at his side, putting a leg underneath her body. "Marcel's got three. Rule number one: No killing."

"Really?" Tyler said. "That's...nice of him."

"Not nice, necessary," Lydia corrected. "You think the human population's going to stand to see itself whittled down one-by-one? No way. You want to feed, you feed, but you leave the victims alive. Which brings me to rule number two: Compel away the entire encounter. And number three: Heal them. You've got to keep your feed clean, nothing that you can't clear off without making them look like they just stepped out of a horror movie. When they leave you, they should be as good as when they met you. Everyone goes home happy."

"What happens if you break the rules?" Tyler asked.

"You break Marcel's rules, you die," Lydia said. "He usually has someone else handle the vampires who step out of line. The witches are the only ones he sees to personally."

"The witches?"

"You're so _new_," Lydia said, rolling her eyes. "Not a single witch in this town still practices. That's how Marcel wants it."

Tyler thought of Bonnie, dead and in the ground. He was thinking about her more and more lately. Everything seemed to remind him of home since he'd left, but now he saw Bonnie everywhere, too. Nestled among his hopeful glances to young, blond women on the street who he almost thought were Caroline, were dark skinned girls with dark hair and petite frames who could have been Bonnie.

"How's he manage that?" Tyler asked.

Lydia shrugged. "No one knows, but he does." She glanced to the side. "What about him?"

_Him_ was a tall white guy sporting a baseball cap, texting on his phone while he walked. "He's fine," Tyler said. This was Lydia's thing so she could take point. He was just there for the ride.

With a happy smile, Lydia stood up. She approached _Him_ first, Tyler hanging back. When she linked her arm with _Him_ he looked confused, but his expression relaxed as she spoke to him, looking directly into his eyes. He gave his head a quick nod and allowed Lydia to guide him down the street and down a dark alley. Tyler followed.

He joined them as Lydia was reaching into _Him_'s back pocket, withdrawing his wallet and flipping it open to check the ID. "Good evening, Toby Marshall," she said with a smile before she put the wallet back. "I like to know their names," she told Tyler, "feels rude to make them into my dinner and not know what to call them."

Then to Toby, "Don't scream, okay?"

"Okay."

She kept her hand pressed to Toby Marshall's chest, pinning him to the wall as she buried her head in his neck. Toby let out a light whimper as Lydia's fangs punctured the skin, but he did as he was compelled and didn't scream. He closed his eyes, rested his head against the wall, and let her drink.

"Tyler," Lydia said, taking her mouth away. Her lips and teeth were covered in blood which she licked away with a flick of her tongue. "Your turn, kid." She kept hold of Toby, but stepped aside so Tyler could take her place at his neck. "Make it quick. And remember, not too much."

Tyler couldn't remember the last time he drank fresh blood, directly from a living, breathing person. The rush remained, warm blood spilling into his mouth, coating his tongue and teeth. It was a kind of euphoria, one he hadn't understood before, when he was just a werewolf, when blood didn't call to him. The blood bags from the hospital didn't compare.

"Okay, Ty," Lydia said, tapping his shoulder. "That's enough."

Regretfully, Tyler released Toby and wiped the blood on his mouth onto his sleeve while Lydia took a quick bite of her wrist and lifted it to Toby's mouth. "Drink," she said, and he latched on eagerly. She practically had to tear her wrist away. Then she straightened his jacket, wiped his mouth and turned his head toward her, leveling his eyes with hers.

"Forget this entire thing," she said. "You walked back to wherever it is you were going, got stopped on the street by some hot girl -" Lydia cut her eyes to him when he laughed, a smirk growing on her face "- and she asked you for directions to the streetcar. It was a good night. Goodbye, Toby."

After patting Toby on the shoulder, Lydia turned to Tyler, looping her arm with his and leading him back to the street. "So what'd you think?" she asked.

"Nice," Tyler said.

"Gonna make it a regular thing?"

"Maybe." It made him nervous, feeding like this. He probably never would have done it without Lydia. If she didn't mind him tagging along, he'd just go with her.

"I'm going to a party tonight," Lydia said. "Want to come?"

"You're always trying to get me to go to some party."

"Yes, I am," Lydia said. "All you do is sit in your itty bitty apartment. You need to get out, have some fun."

Tyler shook his head. "Next time."

* * *

**Present Day**

It was a small party, as Marcel promised. There were only about a dozen people there, but they certainly knew how to utilize the space. Everywhere Tyler looked there was a vampire. Tyler saw when Bonnie came in, but he didn't approach her right away. He tried to prepare himself for it, and he wasn't ready yet when Marcel found him, throwing an arm around his neck and pulling him toward Bonnie without a word.

"Tyler, look who came," Marcel said, once they were right in front of Bonnie. She stood against the wall with her hair pulled back into a shiny ponytail, her lips covered in red lipstick and her dress black and formfitting.

"Yes, look," she said dully.

"Always a delight, Bonnie," Marcel said, grinning at her. It only made Bonnie roll her eyes. "Excuse me."

Once Marcel was gone, off to chat with Duke, Bonnie seemed a little more relaxed, but not by much.

"You look nice," Tyler said.

"Thanks."

"Klaus get that for you?"

Bonnie wasn't offended which was a relief because as soon as the words left Tyler's mouth he figured he shouldn't have said them. Especially since he was here wearing one of the button-downs Marcel had bought for him. But she only smirked. "I got it myself, with the money that Klaus paid me. So I guess that makes it _my_ money."

"I guess so," Tyler agreed. "Are you having fun?"

"A blast," Bonnie said. "You?"

"Ditto."

"Do you know any of these people?" she asked.

Tyler shook his head. "Nope. You?"

"Just a few," Bonnie said. "Duke and Ronan." She stepped closer to him, nodding her head toward two vampires talking near the kitchen door. One was in a satiny white jumpsuit which was a sharp contrast to the darkness of her skin. Her hair was twisted up into an elegant bun. The second was a lighter skinned, much shorter woman with hair that fell in corkscrew curls past her shoulder blades. "The one in the purple," she said, "that's Sloane. She's the oldest vampire here after Marcel. He turned her himself. She's one of two people he's turned. She's nice, I guess. The one she's talking to is Veronica, everyone calls her Ronnie, but she hates it so don't call her that unless she likes you. And she's not gonna like you. She doesn't like anyone but Sloane and Marcel."

"Then why does _everyone_ call her Ronnie?"

"I don't know. Maybe that's why she hates them."

Then Bonnie turned him around to look where past Duke and Marcel to where Ronan was lounging on the sofa with two other men. "The one on Ronan's left, that's Thierry. When Klaus came here the first time, he got pissed and bit him. He healed him a few hours later."

"To get back on Marcel's good side?"

"Yep."

"And the others?" Tyler asked.

Bonnie shrugged and sipped her drink. "They don't talk to me."

"Oh." He searched for something more to say. Bonnie didn't look that bothered by the silence. If she didn't mind going to a party where she wouldn't enjoy herself, this probably didn't bother her either.

"Do you know what's in the attic?" he asked. "There's something up there, and Marcel won't tell me what it is."

The music was so loud it was hard to concentrate on any sounds from above so he wasn't sure if there was any movement up there right now.

"How would I?"

"I don't know, you're more familiar with this place than I am."

"Show me," Bonnie said.

Tyler led her up the stairs to the attic door, shut tight like usual. Bonnie pressed her ear against it. "I don't hear anything. Don't sense anything either. I've been here a few times, and I've never noticed anything."

"How many times have you been here?"

"A _few_."

"Right," Tyler said, leaning against the wall. "So. Caroline left me a message the other day. Her and Elena are all moved in at Whitmore."

Bonnie blinked at him like she didn't know why this was relevant.

"Do you miss them?" Tyler asked.

Bonnie blinked up at the ceiling. Tyler didn't think she'd answer. It was more likely that she'd just walk away without saying anything else. But she stayed. She didn't answer, but she stayed.

"Have you...made any friends since you've been here?" he asked, changing the subject. "I mean, not these people obviously. But others?"

"Have you?"

"Well, I did," Tyler said, "but she kind of fell off the face of the earth, I guess. It's been awhile since I've seen her."

He tried to mentally calculate how long it had been since he'd seen Lydia, and he couldn't even come up with the day. There was an image of her in his head, giant sunglasses and red lipstick, but he couldn't remember the occasion. One day she was here and the next she wasn't. She'd said she liked to go from one place to the other and didn't stick around for long. Lydia had always been clear that she was going to leave New Orleans at some point, but Tyler had thought she'd say goodbye first.

"It's kind of lonely, you know," he said. "Aren't you...lonely?"

"When I first got here, it was hard," Bonnie admitted. "But I got over it."

Just like that, she got over it. Tyler had been away from Mystic Falls longer than she had, and he still wasn't over it. He didn't think he'd ever be over it.

"And you're fine now."

Bonnie nodded.

"What's your secret?" Tyler said, with a weak smile. "How can you not be lonely? You're all alone." He could feel himself annoying her, could see it written all over her face, but he couldn't stop himself.

"I've always been alone," she said finally, looking at him directly. "It just took me some time to realize it."

"What do you mean?"

"Remember when I told you it wasn't any of your business?" she said, raising her drink to her lips. "That's still true."

"Yeah, okay," Tyler said. "Sorry. I'm just trying to understand."

"You don't need to understand."

"Okay," he said. "I just...I miss _Caroline_. Don't you miss her, at least?"

"No."

On Caroline's behalf, he felt like he'd been slapped. "She misses _you_," he said. "The night you died - the night you _didn't _die - she called me, and she was a mess. The day of your funeral she almost killed someone. She was-"

Bonnie set her glass down on the table they stood next to. Well, _set_ wasn't the right word. Slammed was more accurate. "I don't care," she hissed, stepping toward him with the same cold look she'd worn that night in the alley, right before she'd stripped him of any recollection of her at the club. "I. Don't. Care," she repeated. She shoved past him, and he watched her go down the stairs, staring after her until she disappeared from sight.

* * *

**Thanks for reading and reviewing! **


	8. Distraction

Distraction

Bonnie hadn't spared much thought for home in months, but on the cab ride home that was what she thought about.

Caroline devastated because she dead. That was probably true. But it didn't take much to devastate Caroline. Out of all of them, Caroline was the easiest to move to tears. Her crying didn't affect Bonnie like it used to. She'd told Tyler she didn't care. That was true, too. Nothing about home, nothing about the people there, affected her anymore. She had a new home.

But she was currently thinking too much about the old one. She told herself she was allowed to think about until she arrived at her apartment, and then no more. After paying for the cab, she stopped thinking. She got up to her front door and got inside without thinking of it. She thought about the party, Tyler's anxiety about the empty attic, Klaus and Elijah and the next time they'd call her up, Marcel and the next time he'd annoy the crap out of her.

Bonnie got to her bedroom and hadn't thought of anyone from Mystic Falls.

"How was the party?" Klaus asked as Bonnie flicked on the overhead light. He was back in her bed, leaning against the pillows, flipping through one of Bonnie's grimoires. It was one she hadn't gotten much of a chance to look through yet, not since she'd found it in a tiny store not too far from here. There was a small black bag sitting next to him on the bed with tissue paper sticking out of it.

"Uneventful," she answered, stopping in the doorway. "Just the usual players, nothing out of the ordinary." Bonnie hadn't told Klaus many lies since she'd been here - or any lies really. She'd kept her big secret, the one about _why _she'd decided to do this, but that wasn't relevant anyway, and Klaus hadn't asked about it either so there was no need to lie. But it was still very easy to lie to him. She'd managed to avoid Tyler for the rest of the night, and she hadn't seen him when she'd left.

"And get out of my bed."

Klaus rolled his eyes and dropped the grimoire down at his side. "I brought something for you." He picked up the bag to show her.

"I'll let you keep it if you get off my bed."

With an expression half annoyed and half amused, Klaus swung his legs over the bed's side, but that was as good as it got. He patted the space next to him before reaching his hand into the bag and withdrawing a long, thin, black box.

Bonnie sat next to him. Next to him may have been an exaggeration since there were nearly two feet left between them, but Klaus didn't seem to mind. He opened the box, showing her the delicate looking necklace it held, the round ruby and its surrounding diamonds hanging from a sterling silver chain.

"Your advance," he said, lifting it from the box to hold it between his fingers.

Bonnie stared at it without reaching for it. Klaus didn't just _give_ anything. His generosity so far was to ensure hers later, and she'd definitely delivered. This was something more.

"Are you trying to get me to have sex with you?" Bonnie asked.

She could have sex with Klaus, she supposed. It wouldn't be the most questionable decision she'd made since she'd gotten here, not by her_ old_ standards at least. By her new ones it was perfectly acceptable. It would be a grand departure from the Bonnie she used to be. The older, lesser Bonnie model would have been repulsed by the very thought. This one kind of quirked her head and wondered why it would be that big of a deal. She probably wouldn't _hate_ it, though she probably wouldn't love it either. It would just be...what it was, something she did, another something to add to the list of things that made this Bonnie different from the old one.

Klaus laughed. "If I wanted to sleep with you, you'd know it."

"I do know it." Klaus liked to stare at her. She knew she was attractive, even if she wasn't as tall or as blond as his last obsession, and he knew it, too.

"I always knew you were bright," Klaus said, with a shameless smirk, "but _this_ is because I have a task for you. Remember when I told you I had something for you to do ?"

"Yes."

"It doesn't involve sexual favors though it's a bit different than anything I've asked of you before."

Bonnie raised her eyebrows. "What is it?"

"I've been working with a group of witches," Klaus said. "Though not entirely by choice. They have something of mine, and I want it back. Don't worry," he added quickly. "This won't break our agreement. It's highly unlikely that you'll be in any _real_ danger during this endeavor."

"Are you sure about that?"

"Positive," he said. "These witches can't practice their magic without Marcel getting involved and exacting capital punishment. They won't want that."

"I'll ask again. Are you sure about that?"

Klaus rolled his eyes. "I'll admit that they've been known to make certain sacrifices for what they believe to be important. And they've already sacrificed one witch for this particular something."

Bonnie stared at him. "Why don't you go in there and do it yourself?"

Klaus sighed heavily. "You wanted to work for me, didn't you? They're holding someone captive, someone very important. You'll need to retrieve her. Her safety should be your first priority."

"_My_ safety is my first priority."

"Yes, of course," Klaus sighed. "Your very-close-second priority is _her_ safety. Understood?"

Bonnie stood, ran her hands along the bottom of her dress. She crossed the room to sit down at her vanity, made up of shining silver and spotless glass, strewn with beauty products. She looked at her reflection, pulling the elastic band from her hair. "How many?"

"There are three who watch her during the night. Sisters."

"Where?"

"A little house off the interstate."

"And who would I be _retrieving_?"

Klaus pulled something from his back pocket and came forward to place it in front of her. A photo. The girl in it wasn't smiling. It looked like it had been taken at the DMV (it was shitty that way). Her hair looked a bit like a raven colored mop and her pale eyes were heavily lidded and her mouth was in an annoyed pout. Bonnie had seen her before, briefly but certainly. She'd been in Mystic Falls then she hadn't been. A friend of Tyler's. Well, the kind of friend that got lots of people killed including Tyler's mom.

What was her name? Heather? Holly? Hannah? Maybe the old Bonnie had a better memory. "What's her name?" she asked.

"Hayley."

_Hayley. That was it._

"Yeah, I remember her."

"Do you have any more questions?"

"None that you'll answer." Like why was Hayley here? Why was she being held captive by witches, and why did Klaus find her important enough rescue? But that was Klaus' business, and anything he'd wanted her to know he would have told her. She'd learned not to inquire too much with him. "I'll do it."

"Tonight?"

"Yes."

With a smile, Klaus held up the necklace again, meeting her gaze in the mirror. "May I?" he asked as he undid the clasp and stood.

Bonnie moved her hair over her shoulder in response. Klaus stepped forward and hooked it around her neck. When it was done, he reached to adjust it so it laid perfectly against her chest. "Beautiful," he said approvingly, resting his hands on her shoulders. "Don't you agree?"

"I do," Bonnie said, reaching up to run a finger over the stones.

"I'll text you the address. When you have her," Klaus said, all business again, "send me a text message. I'll give you further instructions then." He gave her shoulders a quick pat that was probably supposed to be reassuring then turned for the door. He was halfway out when he paused. "Don't kill them. Tell them to tell Sophie that the deal still stands, but I'm in charge now."

And as he left, Bonnie smiled to herself because at the very least, Klaus was an excellent distraction.

* * *

**Three Months Ago**

Bonnie scrubbed her face so hard her skin felt hot and raw. The towel was streaked with the brown of her foundation, the shimmering lavender of her eyeshadow and the inky black of her mascara. She threw the towel to the floor in a damp heap and turned back to the mirror. She looked terrible. It was a far cry from when she'd left her apartment in her newly washed jeans and a sequined top she found in a store down the street, wearing makeup she bought at the drugstore around the corner.

Turbulence was supposed to be fun, according to the posters hung up around town. If she'd been anyone else, it would have been. It was packed with people, the strobe lights flickered and cast everyone in pink and blue glows, and the bar was lit up and glowed bright enough to be seen from all the way across the club. She had a drink. She even tried to dance.

And now she was home, in her very nice bathroom with its black and purple linens and spotless tiles, crying.

_Pull it together,_ Bonnie 2.0 said. _You didn't shed this many tears when you _died._ What's the issue now? _

"I tried," Bonnie said, angry with herself for the break in her voice and the tears rolling down her face. "I really tried."

But she kept thinking about home. She never would have gone out like that alone back in Mystic Falls. Elena and Caroline would have been with her. Bonnie was one of those people who didn't find clubbing all that entertaining without an entourage. Strangers were intimidating and confusing and...strange. If Elena or Caroline had been there, she'd be out there with them, drinking with them, dancing with them, laughing at the guys who hit on them from a table in the corner.

But Elena and Caroline were back in Mystic Falls, and they both thought Bonnie was dead.

"I have to go back," she said to her reflection. "They all think I'm dead. Elena and Caroline. Jeremy. My _parents_. How could I do that? I have to go back."

_Then go,_ Bonnie 2.0 said. _Go back and die. It's what you're good for. It's all Elena and Caroline think you're good for. You can give them your magic and your life, and no one will care. _

"Maybe it won't be that way," Bonnie said. "Things are different now. I'm different now."

_You're not different, _Bonnie 2.0 sighed in annoyance. _You're exactly the same. That's why you're standing here crying over people who never cry over you. You'll never change. You'll die again, and you won't get taken out by some supernatural Big Bad entity either. No, it'll be your own doing. You'll do it to yourself. You'll die, and you'll have no one to blame but yourself._

A new wave of tears came.

Bonnie 2.0 tried a different strategy. She was more gentle. _It's just the first night. That's all it is. It's just the first night. _

Bonnie nodded her head, gripping the edge of the sink with both hands. "Yeah." She turned away from the mirror and looked at the shower instead with its frosted glass door then to the tub, huge and deep and incredibly wonderful as she'd given it a test run in preparation for her night. "I'm staying," she said. "It's just the first night. I only decided to do this last night. I'm gonna stay."

After splashing cool water on her face, Bonnie padded out into her bedroom and turned off the lights. In her bed, she stared up into the darkness. It was a quiet apartment. No sounds from overhead or from the unit next door. Nothing.

It helped a little bit.

She stopped crying.

Last night she'd been certain. Bonnie 2.0 had been right in front of her, and the answer had come to her so quickly. Every fiber of her being had screamed to get_ out_ of Mystic Falls. Now she was. She was in her beautiful, brand new apartment and it was dark outside and she was alone for the very first time since she'd come back to life in the boiler room. She didn't even have Klaus to keep her company now.

In the morning she'd go shopping with Klaus' money, drown her sorrows in heaps of merchandise, and by the time she had to go to Marcel's house for dinner she'd have forgotten all about this. She would throw herself into whatever it was Klaus found for her to do, would do it without thought, without reservation and without concern. Tomorrow nothing would matter but her, her decision would be set in stone, and she wouldn't regret it.

She was going to be a brand new Bonnie. This one was going to go out to Turbulence weekly, and she was going to drink and dance. And eventually she wouldn't think of Elena and Caroline - or anyone else - at all. All she needed was time. It was her first night. If there was any night that was allowed to be bad, it was the first one.

* * *

**Present Day**

Face free of makeup, hair hanging loose around her face and wearing a new pair of jeans, Bonnie stood outside the house. It was cuter than she'd expected with its pink clapboard siding and white curtains in the windows. There were potted plants on the porch and a swing, even a nice little welcome mat.

She double checked the address on her phone. Definitely the right place.

A quick sweep revealed four people inside. Three were asleep, one was still awake. And one of them was Hayley.

Bonnie murmured a spell. She felt it glide over her, warm and tingly. When she mounted the porch steps, no one could see her. She stood outside the front door, finding it locked before she tapped the knob with the tip of her finger and heard the quiet clicking of the lock.

There was no protection here. The way things had turned out, witches were supposed to help one another. They were all suffering together, underneath the thumb of an oppressive vampire who was so afraid of witches and their power that he made it his mission to keep them weak. These witches were only worried about vampires, not one of their own.

The house was just as cutesy on the inside as it was on the outside. It was done up in warm shades of pink and orange with patterned wallpaper. There were stakes on the coffee table, whittled to perfection. On the walls were framed photos of three pretty, dark-haired girls alongside an older woman.

Bonnie stepped quietly, nothing more than a ripple of movement in the house. She heard music that crackled over a radio, and when she peeked into the living room where there was a dark green sofa and chairs, one of the girls was draped across the sofa fast asleep, a knit blanket thrown over her body. She didn't stir as Bonnie approached and pressed two fingers to her forehead to make sure she didn't wake up. One down, two to go, one to leave with.

Bonnie checked the kitchen finding it empty except for a sink holding a few dirty dishes, an opened bottle of vodka and the playing radio. She started down the hall, past more pictures and smelled herbs. Sage.

Behind the first door she came to was a bathroom. It was still warm, slightly steamy. Someone had just showered. Probably still awake. Bonnie closed the door as quietly as she could and went to the next door. Behind it she sensed someone moving. Softly, she knocked twice.

The door opened to a girl with wide eyes and arched eyebrows, her hair wet and dripping onto the towel around her shoulders. If Bonnie had to guess she'd say she was the oldest sister, first one up, last one down. She was already dressed in her pajamas, silk pants and a tank top. Her pale eyes narrowed in confusion, she glanced up and down the hall, looking straight through Bonnie.

Bonnie reached for her, gripped her arm suddenly. The girl's eyes widened, and she opened her mouth to cry out. There was no time before she pitched forward into Bonnie's invisible arms, asleep. As gently as she could, Bonnie placed her on the floor and closed the door.

The next door was an empty bedroom, maybe the one that belonged to the girl sleeping on the couch. The next one was at the back of the house, and Bonnie touched the knob and pushed the door open. There was a girl asleep in a chair by the window and another huddled on the bed, covers over her head. That had to be Hayley. As she stepped over the threshold, Bonnie felt something warm and tingly scraping across her body like a brush on canvas. Something came loose inside her. When the girl in the chair jolted awake, as if something had touched her, she was staring right at Bonnie, and she could see her.

A ward. There was no time to wonder how there was one when these witches couldn't practice because the witch was reaching for the crossbow leaning against her chair. She hauled it into her arms, aiming it at Bonnie's chest. It was a stake instead of an arrow that came zooming toward her. Bonnie stalled it where it was, watched it break apart into pieces and fall to the floor. Her magic folded around the witch, clapping around her like steel girders and locking her into place. Unable to move, unable to speak.

"Tell Sophie the deal still stands," Bonnie told her, "but Klaus is in charge now."

The witch's eyes were wide in anger, her fists clenched so hard there was blood dripping onto her hands.

Bonnie stepped toward her and touched her wrist lightly, watching as her eyes closed and her body went limp. When she turned to Hayley, she was sitting up in bed, her arms wrapped around her body protectively. "Klaus sent you?" she asked.

"Yeah," Bonnie said stiffly. "Let's go."

* * *

Bonnie led Hayley down the street, keeping her close at her side. No one was following them. Those witches wouldn't wake until sunrise, but Hayley kept looking over her shoulder. As Bonnie had been told, she'd texted Klaus to let him know Hayley was with her, and he'd sent more instructions. Which was why they were walking.

"You're one of Tyler's friends, right?" Hayley asked. She'd been quiet until now.

"You got those hybrids and his mom killed," Bonnie said. "Right?"

Hayley looked at her warily. Bonnie could practically see the thoughts running through her head. She could try to escape her, but that would be futile. Bonnie had just taken on three witches and that had been easy. A werewolf wouldn't be an issue. But Klaus had sent her, and for some reason that meant they were on the same side so Hayley remained tense at Bonnie's side.

They reached the diner (a 24 hour, greasy spoon kind of establishment), and Bonnie held open the door for Hayley. "Don't worry," she said as Hayley walked past her. "I _know _Tyler, but I'm not his friend." Bonnie wasn't about to try and avenge Carol Lockwood and a pack of hybrids so Hayley could relax.

Inside it was mostly empty, but Elijah stuck out like a sore thumb, overdressed and ridiculous looking in one of the red plastic booths. Strangely enough Hayley actually looked _happy_ to see him. She walked faster, and Elijah rose to his feet to embrace her. Neither of them noticed the disturbed look that crossed Bonnie's face.

"How do you feel?" Elijah asked when he pulled away from her.

"I'm okay," Hayley answered as Elijah placed a hand on her shoulder to guide her into his side of the booth. "The-"

"Not here," Elijah said curtly. By that he meant not in front of Bonnie. When he looked to her, he smiled. "Thank you. How are the witches?"

"Sleeping soundly," Bonnie answered. "When they wake up, I'm sure you'll be hearing from them."

"Well done," Elijah said. "Enjoy the rest of your night."

"I will."

On the way home, Bonnie toyed with her necklace while she looked out the window, pondering the ward in place back at that house. It was a strong one, capable of alerting the witch guarding Hayley and stripping Bonnie of her magical defense. And it had been well shielded. She hadn't even felt it until she walked through it. But how had they gotten it in place?

She didn't think of Mystic Falls or any of the people there. 


	9. Stop Drinking

Stop Drinking

"You live here?" Tyler asked as Marcel led him in through a set of heavy metal doors and into a wide open space littered with dark red sofas and chairs, low-sitting coffee tables and chairs. There was a spiraling metal staircase that led to the upper level where golden lights were wrapped around steel railings and criss-crossed the ceiling.

"Yep," Marcel said. "Most of the family does, too. All the rooms are upstairs. Down here is where the fun happens."

Marcel had practically dragged Tyler out of the house this morning, shoving him into his dark blue car (which interestingly enough, Marcel was the one driving). He said it was for a field trip, just getting Tyler out of the house. When he pointed out what Marcel said about Tyler not getting too far from the house, Marcel waved it off. "You'll be fine," he'd said. "You're with me, and we're just going to my place."

Marcel's place was in the middle of the French Quarter, an old historical building with a long balcony overhead. From the outside it didn't look like much, but the inside made up for it.

"Want a drink?" Marcel asked, rounding the bar. Behind it was a wall of curiously colored bottles of alcohol.

Tyler nodded. "I don't think I'm gonna be able to help you with Bonnie," he said as Marcel pushed a glass of something alcoholic toward him. "It didn't go so well last night."

Marcel shrugged. "Have some patience," he said. "Rome wasn't built in a day, you know."

"Yeah, I know," Tyler said dully, "but I still don't think..." He sighed and downed his drink. "I can't help you. We weren't that close back home, and now I don't know her at all. You probably know her better than I do at this point."

"No doubt about that," Marcel agreed, pouring himself a drink and drinking it all in one gulp. He poured another.

Tyler raised an eyebrow. "What do you know about Bonnie?"

"She's a Bennett witch, and that means she's powerful," Marcel said. " She died, was resurrected and came here with Klaus because he was willing to pay her way. I know that even if she doesn't _agree_ with Klaus, she's loyal to Klaus. To an extent. She came here looking for security, and she got it. The only thing that matters to her now is her life and keeping it. Can't put a price on that. It's gonna take a lot longer than one night to get her on our side. Keep trying."

"I still can't believe she's working for Klaus," Tyler said, extending his glass to Marcel for a refill.

"Believe it."

"What does she do for him?"

"Whatever he needs her to do," Marcel said. "And she's good at it. Did a bit of work for him last night actually after the party."

"What?"

"I'll tell you once I know more," Marcel assured him. "Anyway, maybe you can answer a question for me. Was Bonnie a cheerleader?"

That was an odd change of subject, but Tyler still said, "Varsity. Why?"

Marcel drummed his fingers on the bar in a fast tempo, a delighted percussion. "I knew it. She's very..._bendy_."

Tyler cocked his head to the side, unsure of what he just heard. Because it couldn't have been what he thought he heard. "She's very _what_?"

"Bendy."

Bendy. This was going in a direction Tyler didn't want it to go. He looked down at his glass. "Maybe we should change the subject."

"Talking about sex makes you uncomfortable?" Marcel said, resting his elbows on the bar and leaning forward.

"No," Tyler said. "I just...You didn't have sex with Bonnie."

He didn't even know if Bonnie had ever had sex before. She'd been with Jeremy for awhile, but Tyler had never really asked about their sexual habits, and Bonnie hadn't had many boyfriends. The only one Tyler remembered pre-Jeremy was Andy Witwer who ended up moving to Maryland right before their sophomore year. Even if Bonnie was secretly a nymphomaniac who'd had sex every single night since they'd started high school, she wouldn't have slept with Marcel. She didn't even seem to _like_ him, and Bonnie had always been selective about who she spent her time with.

"How do you know?" Marcel asked, a cheeky grin spreading across his face. "Were you there?"

"She wouldn't go near you," Tyler said, matching Marcel's grin with his own and waiting for Marcel to tell him he was just kidding. But the "just kidding" never came.

Andy Witwer and Jeremy Gilbert weren't going to be winning any Nobel Peace Prizes anytime soon, but they were decent. Marcel was the vampire king of New Orleans who kept witches and their magic under his thumb and had probably killed hundreds if not thousands of people in his lifetime (no killing rule be damned, Marcel's hands were definitely not blood free).

Marcel threw back his head and laughed. "Tyler," he said, once his laughter subsided. "She definitely _came_ near me. If you catch my drift."

Tyler felt his mouth drop open and hurried to close it, laughing uncomfortably. "I catch it, but now I'd like to _drop_ it."

Of all the things they could talk about (the weather, interior design choices, the movies in theaters right now) they had to talk about the sex Marcel definitely _didn't_ have with Bonnie.

"Fine," Marcel said. "We can talk about _your_ sex life. I mean, do you have one? Have you had sex since you left your podunk little town and your pageant queen girlfriend?"

Tyler sat up a little straighter on his stool, smile fading instantly. All the air seemed to have left the room as Marcel poured them both another drink, his own grin still in place. "What do you know about my girlfriend?"

He'd been very careful hadn't he? He hadn't said a word about Caroline, not even when Marcel asked about what happened with Klaus. He only checked his messages when Marcel wasn't in the house. Caroline was a secret, for her own sake.

"The basics," Marcel said, unconcerned with Tyler's clenched, trembling fists. "Sweet Caroline. Teenage love affair, vampire and werewolf, later hybrid. Deeply in love, now very far apart."

"Don't hurt her," Tyler said. "I'll do whatever you need me to do, but-"

Marcel held up a hand. "Would you _calm_ _down_? I'm not threatening you, I'm making conversation. You always this paranoid?"

"Excuse me for not exactly trusting the guy who threatened to kill me unless I agreed to help him," Tyler said. He loosened his hand, letting the sting and the indentations where he'd pressed his nails in fade.

Marcel let out a heavy sigh and leaned forward again, looking Tyler straight in the eye. "Let me tell you something: I've threatened to kill a lot of people to get what I want, and most of them are still alive. You want to know why they're alive? Because they delivered. I keep my word, Tyler. You give me what I want, I give you what you want. I gave you more than my promise not to kill you, I gave you a promise not to let anyone else hurt you either.

"Believe it or not," he went on, "I'm looking out for you. Your best interests are my best interests and vice versa. Nothing bad is gonna happen to you as long as you trust me, and trust that I'm here keeping you safe, even if it doesn't feel that way all the time. I'm not gonna hurt you, I'm not gonna hurt your high school sweetheart either. We're on the same side. Okay?"

"Okay."

"Okay," Marcel said. "Now, you have to drink this because you insulted not only my ability to seduce a woman but my trustworthiness, and I'm deeply offended."

He passed Tyler another drink.

* * *

**Three Months Ago**

It was probably inevitable. It didn't make it any less unexpected, any less surprising, but it was probably inevitable. If Tyler asked a stranger on the street, they'd tell him it was bound to happen because that was what always happened. Turn on any movie, and this was what happened.

One minute he and Lydia are just doing their thing. He followed her around while she shopped, while she tried to point out to him all the cool places to go, told him all the cool things to do. He never really listened and by the time they went their separate ways, he'd forgotten everything she'd told him. Some things stuck with him like the little shop on the corner where they had to ring a buzzer to be let in, where they were minimal racks of clothing and sour faced sales associates watching him and Lydia walk around their store. Caroline would have loved it, the too exclusive glamour of it. Those were the only things he recalled later, the things Caroline would have liked, the things he'd like to show her if he ever got the chance, if he was ever able to see her again and bring her here.

When one of the sales associates, one with the wispy strands of blond hair hanging around her face and wearing a black and white sundress and smelling strongly of designer perfume, copped an attitude with a browsing Lydia she was instantly compelled into bagging up four costly dresses for Lydia to leave with. They left her with her dazed and compliant look, Lydia laughing the whole way as they walked before she paid full price for an overpriced pair of sunglasses because the girl selling them was really sweet and even bought a pair for Tyler.

And that's when it started. The touching. Lydia placed the sunglasses delicately on his face. One pair that she hated immediately and replaced with a second. She didn't like those either so she went on and on until she found a pair she liked on him. Her fingertips brushed across his ears, his cheeks, moved to his shoulders when she turned him toward a mirror.

Then she insisted on finding him a decent shirt. "I'm sick of your two preferred t-shirts," she said as she pulled him into another store.

He was in the dressing room, door open while Lydia tossed ties in his direction. "You need something that gets put on a hanger, something that needs to be ironed once in awhile."

"_Why?_" Tyler asked. "I don't go anywhere." He didn't even have an iron.

"If you _went_ somewhere this wouldn't be a problem," Lydia said returning with another button down and another tie, red and black respectively. "Take it off."

Tyler obliged, shrugging off the other one and throwing it onto the chair in the corner. He put on the other one, and Lydia stepped forward to tie his tie for him. Tyler had never been spectacular with tying his own, but he definitely knew how to do it, and Lydia knew he knew how to do it because he'd tied the last two ties that had been shoved at him. She had fast fingers and got it done, pushing the knot up. It was perfect, and it reminded him of the flawless knots his dad had done.

"Try this one," Lydia said, grabbing a different tie and undoing the one Tyler was wearing. She did this one just as fast. "This is the one," she said certainly, smoothing it down with the palm of her hand. "Perfect."

It was about to be one of those things, the moment in the movie where the two leads look at each other with new eyes and lean in for the kiss.

Not in this movie.

"I'm kind of...I have a girlfriend," Tyler said quickly. "Her name's Caroline, and she's great. And she's at home. We're not _officially_ together because I'm here obviously, but we're still together. I still want to be with her so this-" he gestured between them "-can't happen."

Lydia blinked at him, amused. He thought she might actually laugh, but she didn't.

Tyler did like her. Lydia was the closest thing he'd had to a friend since he'd gotten here, and even though he rebuffed her attempts to turn him into someone sociable and fun, someone closer to who he used to be, she liked him, too. They _were_ friends.

"Okay," she said, dropping her arms back to her sides. "Still want to get lunch?"

* * *

**Present Day**

Tyler stayed at the bar, bobbing his head along to music that blared from a stereo across the room. He didn't even care that it was barely past noon, and he was pretty much drunk. Not sliding-off-his-barstool drunk but drunk enough to know that he was drunk. Marcel had laughed at him then gone off to handle business. Tyler heard the doors open with a prolonged rattle then slam closed again. Heels on the floor made him turn his head, and it was Bonnie, backlit by the sunlight spilling through the windows, glowing like a lit candle.

He was so drunk.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, swiveling around on his barstool. He didn't slur his words, but he knew Bonnie could tell he wasn't sober by the curious quirk of her eyebrows.

"What are you doing here?" she countered. Today she was fresh-faced and simple looking, in a long skirt and a midriff baring tank top. Around her neck hung a necklace that she definitely hadn't been wearing last night with a red ruby and glittering diamonds. "Thought you couldn't leave the house."

"Special occasion," Tyler said. "You didn't answer me."

"I wasn't going to," she said, leaning against the bar. Her gaze flitted over him, from head-to-toe then she smirked. "Having a good morning?"

"Didn't have a very great night," he said. "So I'm making up for it. How was _your_ night?" She had to go to work last night. Tyler doubted she'd tell him about whatever it was she'd had to do for Klaus last night.

And he was right.

"Boring."

"You're lying."

Bonnie shrugged. "So?"

"Why don't you tell the truth?"

"Why should I?"

"I don't know," Tyler sighed. "Because I haven't lied to you."

Bonnie rolled her eyes. "Really? Well, you weren't exactly forthcoming about Marcel telling you to be all buddy-buddy with me. I'm not stupid, Tyler. Marcel wants me on his team, and he thinks you'll be able to make that happen."

Tyler almost laughed. "Can you stop biting my head off? I'm just trying to make conversation. I mean, yeah, Marcel wanted me to get you on his side, but that's not why I'm trying to make conversation. I just wanna talk to you."

Bonnie narrowed her eyes at him skeptically, leaning forward a little bit more to peer closer at his face. Then she smiled, leaning back. He wanted to ask her what was so funny. "Make conversation about something else."

The whole _bendy_ thing probably fell under the category of things Bonnie didn't want to talk about, and Tyler wasn't drunk enough to test that theory.

Bendy.

Unbelievable.

"Okay," Tyler said, shoving those thoughts to the back of his mind. "I will. I won't ask you anymore questions about what happened or why you're here or anything else. Nothing about Caroline or anyone. Not even Klaus. Okay?"

"Okay," Bonnie said.

They both turned around as Marcel, framed in the doorway of a corner room, called. "Bonnie," he said, "step into my office."

Bonnie didn't look back at Tyler before she went inside. She wasn't in there very long, a little more than ten minutes which seemed to go past at the blink of an eye. Tyler hadn't moved from his spot.

"Bye," he said as she walked past him.

Bonnie stopped for a moment, like she was considering saying anything back to him. Then she turned and came to stand at his side again, very close to him. She reached to move his glass, pushing it down the bar where it sat several feet away from him, too many feet for Tyler to consider reaching for it. Then he _would_ fall off his bar stool.

"Stop drinking," Bonnie said. She was whispering, but Tyler didn't know why.

"You're one to talk Miss Hungover Until Thanksgiving."

"Tyler," she said sternly, clapping a hand over his. "_Stop drinking._ Trust me."

Tyler looked down at her hand on his, watched as their hands began to revolve on top of the table. He closed his eyes and opened them again. Their hands were still. "Okay," he said. "I'm done."

Bonnie withdrew her hand, satisfied. "Bye." He watched her go, disappearing out the door.

Marcel came out soon after and sat on the stool next to Tyler. "Ready to leave?"

"Yeah, I guess."

"Want another drink?"

"No," Tyler said, still staring at the door where Bonnie left. There was a pit forming in his stomach, wide and gaping. They'd barely talked at all, and now she was gone. Who knew when he'd see her again.

"One more," Marcel said, reaching over the bar to find another glass. He poured Tyler another one and held it out to him.

_Trust me. _

"No, I'm okay," Tyler said. "I think I've had enough." He slid off his barstool onto wobbly legs, reaching out to steady himself on the bar. An amused look on his face, Marcel stood as well.

"Let's get you back," Marcel said, slinging an arm around Tyler's shoulder. "I hope you had fun. You're too young and too immortal for all the brooding."

* * *

Maybe Tyler was drunker than he thought. He sprawled on his bed, twisted in the covers and staring up at the ceiling. Through the window came yellow light, looking yellower than it ever had before. The color seemed to pulse and contort the longer he stared at it, transforming before his eyes. He thought of Bonnie and the illumination that had clung to her as she'd walked.

_Stop drinking_.

"Go sleep it off, kid," Marcel had said, when he'd given Tyler's shoulder a brotherly pat and sent him up the stairs.

But Tyler wasn't sleeping. He was just moving in and out of a haze, feeling warm and sloppy. He'd been drunk before, lots of times. This wasn't the feeling he had when he was drunk. He didn't want to move, had no motivation to do so. Even when he heard the footsteps, at least four sets, outside the door, he didn't move.

Moving meant moving, and Tyler wasn't game for that.

He heard a door opening. It didn't sound like any of the other doors in the house, sounds which had become familiar to him. This one was new.

And there was only one door Tyler had never opened, not for lack of trying.

He moved.

The room spun slightly as he got off his bed, stepping toward the door. A hand on the side of the door to steady himself, he pulled it open. The hallway seemed like one he'd see in a funhouse, comically narrow and seeming to get longer and longer with every blink of his eyes.

He walked.

Slowly and cautiously but still walking. He passed the stairs, looking distorted and watery. His gaze lingered on them, looking at the dripping wood and the waves created by the rolling carpet.

"Tyler."

It was the first time he'd ever heard Ronan say his name, and Tyler turned around so quickly he almost lost his balance, to be steadied by Ronan's hand. "Come on," Ronan said, putting an arm around Tyler's shoulders to turn him back the way he came, away from the opened attic door and the footsteps.

"Ronan!"

Marcel.

Ronan turned Tyler back around to see him approaching, only a small smile teasing at his lips.

"You drugged me," Tyler realized.

Marcel let out a breath. "Yeah. Had to, kid. I'll take it from here, Ronan." He took Ronan's place at Tyler's side, guiding him back to his bedroom, and Tyler didn't see where Ronan went. He disappeared so fast.

Back in his room, Tyler sat at the edge of his bed, leaning against one of the posts. "Fuck you," he murmured.

"Yeah, yeah," Marcel said, standing at the door. "You're mad, but you'll get over it."

_Stop drinking. _

"You _drugged_ me."

"Probably should have given you more," he said. "Then you wouldn't be wandering. You'll be fine in an hour or two, after you've got some blood in your system."

"I don't want anything from you."

Marcel rolled his eyes, and it seemed to last forever. "Relax. Remember our conversation earlier. I'm protecting you, even if it doesn't seem like it. There are some things you can't know. Not yet."

"What's in the attic?" Tyler asked groggily.

Marcel smiled at the question. "That's one of those things you can't know yet."

* * *

Marcel said he'd feel better in an hour or two. It felt like twelve hours had passed, and Tyler was still in bed, unmoving and foggy headed. If he couldn't move he needed to hear. He heard footsteps up in the attic and more movement than there had ever been before. And he thought he heard crying and muffled screaming, voices all speaking at once, some he didn't recognize.

The sounds stopped.

When Marcel came in, a bag of blood in hand, he passed it to Tyler. "Drink."

"I don't think I want to drink anything you give me," Tyler said.

Marcel rolled his eyes. "Drink. I have something to tell you."

Tyler sat up with great difficulty and snatched the blood from Marcel's hand. He drank it down and could feel his mind clearing instantly. Marcel waited until he drank down the whole bag before speaking.

"A ward was broken last night," he said. "Do you know what that is?"

"No."

"Witches create them for protection, security," he explained. "If they're broken they make a sound. A metaphorical sound."

"Oh, a metaphorical sound," Tyler said dully.

"Metaphorical and magical," Marcel said. "Which is how I know about the ward breaking."

"How was there a ward if you don't let witches practice?" Tyler asked, bitter at his own participation in this conversation after Marcel _drugged_ him.

"Another witch made that ward," Marcel explained. "That was months ago. I killed her for it. She made a few apparently, all of which were broken, except for that one which I...missed. I'm sure that was her intention." He gritted his teeth in frustration but seemed to shrug it off.

"So who broke it?" Tyler said.

"Bonnie, but that's not important," Marcel answered. "What's important is what the ward was protecting. Klaus sent her there to get something."

"Did she get it?"

"Bonnie's a good soldier," Marcel said. "She got it. That's why I'm talking to you now. What the ward was protecting wasn't an _it_ but a _who_. A werewolf named Hayley. You know her, right?"

White hot heat crackled in his fingertips, shooting up his arms. He felt it his skin and in his bones, coursing through his blood. Faces flashed before his eyes, the twelve faces of his hybrid pack and then his mom, her powdered, dead face and the navy blue dress she'd been buried in, the smiling picture he'd chosen for the obituary and the memorial service and the funeral program.

"Yeah," he said. "I know her."


	10. Brave New Girl

Brave New Girl

"I'm sorry," Bonnie said, gritting her teeth. "I didn't realize Marcel would know about the ward once I crossed it. I didn't even know it was there _until_ I'd crossed it."

"But you knew it was there when we met at the diner?" Elijah said, his hands in his pockets where he leaned against Bonnie's refrigerator. "And you simply failed to mention it."

Her apartment had never seemed so small. Elijah hadn't seen the inside of this place since he'd shown it to them when they'd arrived. Klaus was the one who liked to make house calls, but now they were both there, Elijah in her tiny and rarely used kitchen, Klaus lounging on her sofa.

"Yes," Bonnie said, "but I didn't think it was...I didn't think to tell you. I didn't think it was relevant."

"They got it up past Marcel," Klaus said. He faced the window, one leg crossed over the other and gazing out as if he was pretending that Bonnie and Elijah weren't there. "That's very relevant."

"They didn't get it up past him," Bonnie corrected. "One witch, the mother, bunched it in with a bunch of other magic and disguised it. When Marcel executed her for it, he missed that one."

"_That_ is irrelevant," Elijah said. "Does he know about Hayley?"

"I don't know," Bonnie answered. Marcel hadn't been very forthcoming during their meeting. It had been brief, and he'd been unusually short with her, light on the sarcasm and the flirting and the playful taunting. He'd asked his questions, thrown out some vague explanation when she questioned _why_ he'd missed a ward in the first place, received her dismissive denials and then she'd been out the door.

"If he does, we have a problem," Elijah said.

"Thank you for stating the obvious," Klaus said. "Sophie said some of Marcel's people came for the sisters. They took the oldest one for questioning."

And to be killed later.

"Do you think she'll say something about Hayley?" Bonnie asked.

"She may not have a choice," Elijah said. "Marcel knows how to turn witches against one another. He may even request your services."

"He won't," Klaus said. "Bonnie's too close to me. He'll find someone else. For now, we should assume he knows about Hayley."

With Klaus, the worst scenario was always the one they should always go with.

"And what would you like to do about that?" Elijah asked loftily.

"I'd like you to give Bonnie and me some privacy."

With a sharp look in Bonnie's direction, Elijah left. When the door had closed behind him, Bonnie spoke. "You're gonna have to explain this Hayley thing to me now. Why's she so important?"

Klaus approached her where she leaned against the wall. When he came to stand right in front of her, he dropped his gaze to her chest where her new necklace hung. "Am I going to have to take that back?"

Bonnie straightened up, folding her arms. "You can try."

The corner of Klaus' mouth twitched into a smile. "I've enjoyed working with you these past three months, Bonnie," he said. "I hope our partnership lasts another three. Perhaps four or five. Years, even. You've been an invaluable asset, and at times I've even liked you."

"Ditto."

"So tighten up," he said. "I need you at your best at all times."

_Yeah, yeah._ "Are you going to answer my question?"

"Elijah and I have to leave the city for a day or two," Klaus said. "When we return Rebekah will be with us."

"I thought she didn't want anything to do with you anymore."

It was Klaus' favorite thing to whine about. Rebekah not being there with them, Rebekah going on some around the world trip with Matt of all people, Rebekah planning on enrolling in _college_ and spending another four years with people who couldn't stand her. That conversation topic had died off recently, but Klaus was ready to pick it up again at any moment.

"I'm going to change her mind," Klaus said. "Which means Hayley will be your responsibility."

Bonnie opened her mouth to tell him that she didn't want to when Klaus spoke. "She's pregnant."

"She's what?"

"Pregnant," Klaus said. "With child. Expecting. However you'd like to say it. With my baby."

She laughed. Hand over her mouth, trying and failing at _not_ laughing, she laughed. She couldn't remember the last time she'd actually laughed like this. Not just a little chuckle, a little annoyed breath of a laugh but a real one that spilled from her mouth recklessly.

"I'm not joking," Klaus said, not half as amused as she was.

"I know," Bonnie said, going to sit down at the dining room table, still laughing. "You don't joke. I'm laughing because that is _still_ the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard."

"It's true."

"Like I said, I believe you. I'm just wondering _how_ that happened."

"It happened because I had sex with her."

"Yeah, I know all about the birds and the bees," she said. "But how did _you_, half-werewolf, half-vampire, get a werewolf pregnant? You're supposed to be shooting blanks."

"Yes, well," Klaus said. "_Nature _had other plans."

Bonnie rolled her eyes. Of course _nature_, in all its infinite stupidity gave Klaus a kid and just sucked all the life right out of Bonnie. Literally.

"How far along?"

"A little over four months now," Klaus answered. "So I expect that you'll make her protection your very close second priority."

"I'm not a nanny."

"I'll buy you a car."

Bonnie rolled her eyes.

"I'll buy you a car," he repeated. "A very expensive, very foreign, very fast _car_. I'll buy you one. We'll just be gone for a couple of days."

"I don't like to drive."

Klaus rolled his eyes. "Would you like another necklace?"

"Make it a bracelet," she said. "Bonus points if it matches my necklace."

"Done," he said with a bow of his head. "Goodbye, Bonnie."

She watched him go out the door and waited until it had slammed shut behind him before she started laughing again.

* * *

**Three Months Ago**

"You just met him yesterday," Bonnie said to her reflection. That was what Elena would say. Caroline would tell her the bad boy thing was tired and out of season, and it was time to let that go. "Take it from someone who knows," she'd say. Bonnie had never been the one night stand type of girl. There always had to be things attached. Dates, honest feelings, hopes for the future, etc. The quick hit, straight to the sweet spot, had never been her thing. Caroline used to say Bonnie just didn't have the stomach for it. Caroline had it.

Bonnie had it, too. The first night had come and gone. There was no more feeling sorry for herself, no more thinking about old friends in the old town. She'd already decided. She was a new Bonnie, in a new city with a new life. She was going to kick it off with a bang. A sexual bang.

In Marcel's beautiful guest bathroom, all in shades of white with porcelain and shiny tiles, she was the most colorful thing in there in her new red dress. She'd bought it today. She'd bought everything today, the dress, the jewelry, the heels. She looked perfect. Very sexable.

Klaus said Marcel would definitely try to sleep with her, and she was inclined to believe him since she remembered Marcel checking her out the other day. He'd go for it, and she'd go with it.

Bonnie pictured Jeremy standing next to her, and she remembered the feel of his mouth on hers, his hands on her waist and his tongue scraping across her teeth. Disapproval came off his imaginary form in waves.

_So?_ Bonnie 2.0 said. _That's all in the past. Remember?_ _You're shiny and new now_. _Act like it._

She nodded to her reflection reassuringly and went back outside. She took her place at the end of the dining room table where Marcel was standing, looking at her like he knew exactly what she'd been doing in his bathroom. The open collar of his button down hinted at the toned expanse of his chest, and she'd noticed when she'd come in that the pants he wore definitely accented his butt. Which wasn't a bad butt at all.

"How do you do it?" Bonnie asked as Marcel placed her plate in front of her. It was beautifully arranged, though she didn't know a whole lot about arranging food on plates in the first place, but it definitely looked nice. Generous portions of meat and vegetables placed in specific positions, peering up at her and asking her to consume them.

"Well, I have a nice little old lady who handles my cooking for these kinds of things," Marcel said, opening up a bottle of wine.

"I was referring to the whole magic lockdown thing," Bonnie said as he poured the rich red liquid into her glass.

"Oh," he said, moving on to his own glass, "_that_. Well, that's classified information." He gave her a wink. "I don't share many of my secrets. If I did they wouldn't be secrets anymore, and I_ like_ secrets."

When he sat down, he told her all about his rules for the witches. They just didn't practice. Oh there were a few here and there, fortune tellers on the street who read palms and tarot cards for tourists. They got a bit of reprieve, but only if they asked Marcel for his permission themselves, face-to-face, and had no problem still being monitored. That face-to-face thing kept a lot of them away, and the city had been flooded with a bunch of pretenders who had perfected their acts.

"If a witch breaks my rules, I kill them," Marcel said. "You break my rules, and you die." He leaned back in his chair. "What's Klaus gonna have you doing?"

"You should ask him."

Marcel nodded. "Yeah, probably should. How'd you end up working for him? I mean, I've known Klaus to always be able to find some use for a strong witch, but your kind don't exactly line up to work for the guy."

"I help him, he helps me."

"How's he helping you?"

"He got me out of a bad situation."

It was so strange that Klaus had a role in her life now that wasn't tormentor, that she had a role in his life that wasn't magical foil. That they were on the same side now.

"Bad situation," Marcel echoed curiously. "What's that mean?"

"I died."

His eyebrows arched, and she was glad that she'd surprised him. "You look pretty good for a dead girl."

"I came back to life," she said. "I got Klaus to bring me here. I do whatever he needs, and I get paid for it."

"Sounds like a good arrangement," he said. "As long as you don't go rogue and decide to use some of that magic on _me_, you're good to go."

"Then I'm good to go," Bonnie lied.

Marcel smiled. "You done?" he nodded to her empty plate. "Then follow me." He rose from the table and extended a hand to her. She stared at it but didn't take it. Instead she refilled her wine glass.

"Tough crowd," he said as he led Bonnie into the living room dotted with plush furniture with a giant piano in the corner. Marcel sat down behind it and began to play.

"Are you going to compliment my skills?" he asked after a few minutes of her not speaking.

"You're very good," she said mechanically.

"Oh, thanks."

Bonnie did a circuit around the room, looking at the high shelves covered in books and various trinkets. Everything looked perfectly polished, clean and treasured. It was a beautiful house, and it reminded her of the Lockwood mansion, unattainable in its beauty, dripping with wealth and privilege and loads of things Bonnie didn't have. But while the Lockwood place had a cold, frosty something about it, this house was warm, electrified and pulsing with something else.

"Klaus said you'd try to have sex with me," Bonnie said, turning around to look at him.

Marcel kept playing. "I will," he assured her. "Right now I'm being a gentleman. Give me a few minutes to work down to a sex fiend."

"Can we just skip right to that part?"

He laughed and finally paused his playing. "In a hurry?"

Bonnie raised her glass to her lips and drained it. Old Bonnie hadn't been big on wine. This one didn't mind it.

"I don't see the point in wasting time," she said. "Do you want to?"

Marcel took his hands from the piano keys and turned around on the bench. "I want to."

Bonnie couldn't figure out if this was the best or the worst decision she'd ever made. Homicidal vampires were not her preferred sexual partners but maybe it helped that she'd never seen Marcel with his fruit punch mouth, that he could so easily hide behind his charm and his humor and that one part infuriating one part disarming smile. She knew it was a mask, but it was a good one.

A very, very good one.

Bonnie set her glass down on the coffee table and turned her back to him. "Unzip me?"

Bonnie felt the wind in the air as Marcel closed the space between them with vampire speed, taking hold of her zipper with gentle fingers. She felt him pulling it down, felt air meeting her bare skin and then cool fingers pressing against her lower back which made her heart pound. It wasn't a bad pounding, like the nervous, erratic poundings before giving a presentation in class or something. It was a good pounding, an excited pounding, a persistent let's-go-faster-more-more-more pounding.

Definitely the best decision she'd ever made.

Marcel may have been surprised when she turned around to kiss him, a hand on the back of his neck to keep him close, but if he was he hid it with his lips and his tongue and his fingers, tilting her mouth to his. Maybe he thought she was going to back out before this went too far, chicken out and leave in a hurry, the back of her dress still open. If he did, he was wrong.

She let him get her dress off, pushing it off her shoulders and down her hips where it pooled on the floor in a cherry puddle, and she moved her hands to the front of his shirt to undo the buttons. Shirt taken care of, she moved to his pants, working the belt, undoing the button, pulling down the zipper.

Then they were on the floor.

And it felt so good. Better than anything had in a while. After dying and coming back to life, after everything she'd done, she deserved this. She deserved something that was just hers, something she could file away and dig up later. She deserved a dirty, sexy one night stand with the vampire king of New Orleans on the floor of his beautiful house.

She deserved it.

And she got it.

She got Marcel's hands, slow and languid across her stomach and his head between her thighs. She got his mouth at her ear, his tongue flicking across her earlobe and his body a delightful weight on hers. She got his voice in her ear asking how she wanted it, where she wanted it, if she liked it.

_Yes._

And she got another one of Marcel's smiles as he rolled his hips against hers, and it was the first time she actually returned it with one of her own, just as wide as his. When he rolled off of her, she was still smiling.

Bonnie closed her eyes and saw Bonnie 2.0, looking down at her where she lied in a sweaty heap next to Marcel. She wore an impressed smile as she crouched down at her side. _Look at you_, she said with a light laugh. It wasn't her cruel laugh, mocking and full of hate. It was nice. _I'm proud of you_, Bonnie 2.0 said.

The old Bonnie didn't do one night stands with homicidal vampires on the floor of their beautiful houses. The new Bonnie did.

She opened her eyes and turned her head to look at Marcel who was looking up at the ceiling as well. "Well?" he said, turning his head and flashing that smile again. "Satisfied?"

She rolled so she could straddle him. "Almost. One more time before I go."

* * *

**Present Day**

"This is a nice place," Hayley said, glancing around the apartment, keeping her hands firmly in her lap. She hadn't moved from that spot since she'd sat down, (on Bonnie's sofa which was apparently had a pull-out mattress but no one had told Bonnie) dropped off by Elijah who reminded her that he was leaving the mother of his unborn niece or nephew in her care.

"Yeah," Bonnie agreed.

"So you work for Klaus," Hayley said. Her outfit wasn't much better from yesterday's, still gigantic and swallowing her up. it hid her stomach pretty well until s he gathered the fabric at the sides to examine her belly. "How'd you land that gig?"

"I asked for it."

Hayley nodded. "Well, I told them I could have just stayed at Elijah's place on my own. It's just one weekend, right? I don't need a babysitter."

"And I don't need a pregnant girl to babysit, but we've got each other anyway," Bonnie said.

Because of this she wouldn't be able to go to Turbulence tomorrow night to dance all the work off of her. She'd be stuck in with Hayley instead, having more conversations like this one. Or maybe she could leave Hayley here. It wasn't like anyone would be able to get to her. Bonnie had protected the apartment with a range of spells. Hayley was perfectly safe here if Bonnie wanted to go out for a few hours and dance with strangers.

"I actually cared about Tyler you know," Hayley said.

"You had an interesting way of showing it," Bonnie said. "That being said, I don't care if you did or if you didn't."

Apparently that was really hard for Hayley to wrap her head around.

"I heard he left Mystic Falls," she said. "That sucks. Wherever he is, I hope he's okay."

_Yeah, wherever he is_, Bonnie thought. He was probably back at the house, sleeping off the drugs Marcel had slipped him. He hadn't even seen it coming, didn't have much of a reason to anyway. She wondered why Marcel had resorted to those tactics anyway, why a lucid Tyler was such a problem. If Tyler had taken Bonnie's advice he may have been able to keep some control of himself, maybe even stay awake, see something Marcel didn't want him to.

If Marcel knew about Hayley, how much longer until Tyler knew about her, too? And how long until he came looking for her? Of course, Marcel wouldn't allow it. Letting Tyler go after Hayley would send him straight to Klaus, and that was the opposite of what any of them wanted. She wasn't worried.

Marcel would keep Tyler in check.

"So what are you gonna name it?" Bonnie asked, nodding down to Hayley's stomach.

"Don't know."

"Do you know what it is?"

"Nope," Hayley said. "I don't really want to either. I don't want to get too attached, you know. I haven't decided if I want it yet, but if I bail then it's gonna be stuck with Klaus and Elijah as its parents."

"Lucky kid," Bonnie said sarcastically.

"The luckiest," Hayley agreed.

They both laughed.

"I mean, I'm not really mommy material," Hayley said, "but you can't do much worse than Klaus and Elijah with all their...problems. But Elijah's nicer to me than Klaus is," she went on. "I'm not Caroline Forbes so he's less interested in me and more interested in the baby that's gonna be shooting out of me in a few more months."

Hearing Caroline's name slip from Hayley's mouth was weird. She said it differently than Bonnie had ever heard before, like it was weighty and strange and hard to say. All the syllables sounded wrong. It took Bonnie a few minutes to realize Hayley had coated Caroline's name in disdain.

But she didn't say anything about it. She pretended Caroline's name hadn't come up.

"Elijah's _nice_ to you?"

Elijah was good at hiding it among his perfectly cut wardrobe and polite speech, but he was an asshole. Bonnie didn't know who she trusted with a baby less, him or Klaus. At least Elijah wouldn't rip its head off for crying through the night.

"I'm sure he thinks he's being more than friendly," Hayley said, "but he doesn't care about me. He cares about the baby, and I'm gonna ride that train for as long as I can. This baby is the only reason I'm safe, and once it's out who knows. It'll be on its own, too, ready to fall victim to a very specific brand of Original hell. I'd probably be a bad person - definitely a bad mother - if I just _left_ it to that wouldn't I?"

Bonnie shrugged. If Hayley was worried about being a bad person maybe she should have thought about that before she got twelve hybrids and Carol Lockwood killed. But Bonnie didn't say anything about that either, and apparently Hayley didn't require a response.

"And to think," Hayley said with a giant sigh as she dragged a hand along her stomach, "I was sure I'd beat teen pregnancy."

"So you had sex with Klaus," Bonnie said.

"That I did."

"How was it?"

Hayley laughed. "Girl talk, huh? I like it." She gave her shoulders a noncommittal shrug. "It was okay, I guess. Nothing to write home about. It started off pretty good then you know, it fizzled. I wouldn't recommend it. It wasn't really worth the weight gain and the achy boobs. And of course, the tiny, screaming human that's gonna be climbing out of my uterus in a few months."

"Good to know," Bonnie said, almost smiling. Then curiously, "You're not turning on full moons are you?"

"No," Hayley said. "The baby making happened right after the full moon, and then I got here before the next one. The witches were suppressing it with a spell. Hurts like a bitch, but I don't turn."

That spell would probably be Bonnie's job now. She'd have to do some research on that.

"I came here because I wanted to find out where I'd come from," Hayley said. "That's why I did everything I did, what happened to the pack and Tyler-"

"I told you I didn't care," Bonnie reminded her. The last person she wanted to talk about was Tyler, but Hayley just couldn't let it go. She considered just putting Hayley to sleep for the night to avoid this.

"I just don't want you to think that I'm some kind of monster bitch," she said, like Bonnie was using this time to form an opinion and not counting down the minutes until Hayley would be out of her apartment. "I had my reasons. We've all got reasons."

"Yeah, whatever," Bonnie said. "I'm going to bed."


	11. Do It

Do It

"Believe me, Ty, I don't like werewolves in my city," Marcel said. "I'd love it if this girl just went and dropped dead, but that's unlikely to happen."

Marcel let Tyler sleep on the revelation that Hayley was in town and returned the next morning to tell him more about it. Instead of eating any of the breakfast he'd brought along with him, Marcel popped M&Ms in his mouth, watching Tyler pace the length of the kitchen, also not eating.

"Then let me go kill her," he suggested.

Marcel smiled and made an impressed kind of face. "I appreciate this new murderous side of you - believe me, it's a joy to see it - but I can't let you do that. You go after her, you'll be exposing yourself to Klaus. We don't want that. Remember? We _don't_ want Klaus knowing you're here."

How was it that the two people who'd ruined his life had managed to become pals in the course of a few months? It was some kind of sick irony that way, gods or deities or the universe itself conspiring to have one big, dark laugh at Tyler's expense.

"What about Bonnie?" he said. "We can ask her."

Marcel blinked and folded his hands in front of him. "Tyler, you tell me how you think that conversation will go."

Most likely not well. Bonnie would probably deny the whole thing had taken place, even with Tyler and Marcel both assuring her they knew about it. And she definitely wouldn't hand Hayley over, not if Klaus wanted her for some reason.

"Marcel-" Tyler began.

"You've got better things to do," Marcel reminded him. "Let me deal with this. If there's a way for you to get your vengeance on the wolf girl without getting yourself killed then I'll let you know about it. For now, Ronan's waiting for you in the courtyard." When Tyler stayed where he was, Marcel sighed. "Go," he said.

The conversation over, Tyler stood in a huff to join Ronan outside. He wasn't affected by Tyler's less than positive attitude, and Tyler's bad mood didn't keep Ronan from laying him out on the ground with a silent smirk which he did twice, even faster than usual. Tyler had been making some progress, but he'd pretty much forgotten everything today.

Lying on the ground, Tyler waited for his body to recover, staring up at the puffy, white clouds overhead, floating through the air oblivious to his turmoil down here. They just went along like it was any other day, just giant gaseous formations of water and air, not even solid.

In the house, he heard Marcel poking around, tossing things into the trashcan. Then booted footsteps on the floor and Duke's voice.

"Sloane called," he said. "Klaus is leaving the city for a couple days."

"Where's he going?"

"Back to Virginia," Duke answered. "Bonnie's watching the wolf. I-"

"One second," Marcel said. Tyler heard the whine of a faucet and then water spilling into the sink, drowning out the rest of their conversation. But he'd heard enough.

* * *

**Two Months Ago**

"She ruined my life," Tyler said. "Okay, no. _Klaus_ ruined my life, but Hayley definitely played her part."

Lydia sat across from him at the coffee shop, her sunglasses pushed up onto her forehead while she stirred her coffee. She'd been stirring it for the duration of his story, never drinking from it. It was like she'd forgotten it was for drinking in the first place.

"I'm still stuck on the part where Klaus - scary, old Original vampire - has you in the number one slot on his shit list," she said. "What the hell?"

"I know," Tyler said. "I don't look like the Number-One-On-Klaus'-Shit-List type, do I?"

"You really don't," Lydia said, setting down her coffee. "I mean your face has a kind of asshole-ish quality about it but nothing that serious." She laughed. Only she could laugh while Tyler was telling her all about his shitty life. "Okay, so what? You're on the run?"

"Yep."

"That sucks," she said. "I thought you were just going through some kind of phase. Like a bad breakup or finding yourself or something. I can't believe you're just now mentioning this."

Well, he wasn't about to immediately tell her everything there was to know about him. He barely knew anything about her as it was, even after two months of letting her drag him to various stores at outdoor cafes around New Orleans.

"Well where's this Hayley girl now?" Lydia questioned.

"Don't know," Tyler said. "Probably off somewhere finding her birth family. You know I hope she finds them, so at least my mom _dying_ wouldn't have been for nothing. I take that back. I hope she never finds them. I hope they're dead."

Lydia's eyes widened, and then she laughed. "That's dark." She reached for her coffee and took a sip this time. "What would you do if you saw her again?"

"I'd kill her," he said. He'd do it, and he knew he would. He'd never thought of himself as the killing type. Killing Sarah, even when that had been accidental, had been horrifying. He'd never wanted to go there again, but now he did. He _wanted_ to do it, wanted to do something definitive, something loud, and he wanted someone to pay for something. He couldn't touch Klaus, but Hayley was killable.

"How do people like that exist?" Tyler said. "Doesn't it just _kill_ you to know that there are people out there who care so little about anyone but themselves? People _died_ because of her, and she didn't care. I was her friend. I let her in my house, around my friends, around my family. And what did I get for it? I lost my friends and my family. If I ever see her again, I'll kill her."

Lydia had to leave soon after, but she gave Tyler's shoulder a comforting pat before she left. "I hope you find her one day," she said. "I hope you get what you need."

So did he.

Walking back to his apartment, Tyler checked his voicemail.

_One unheard message sent June 5 at 10:12 PM Eastern Time_

"Hey," Caroline said. She let out a heavy sigh, and he could practically see her on her bed, lying on her back and staring up at her ceiling. "I had a fight with Elena and Jeremy today. I was kind of - _I definitely was_ - a real bitch."

_You couldn't have been that bad,_ Tyler thought, as he reached the front door of the building, taking the stairs two at a time until he got to his floor.

"You'd probably say I wasn't _that_ bad," Caroline said, "but I definitely was. I said - God, I'm such an asshole - I said that it would have been better if Jeremy had just stayed dead. I said that. Out loud. To Jeremy's face. And to Elena's face. And now neither of them are speaking to me."

_Okay that was bad_, he conceded.

"I'm just still not used to it, you know," Caroline went on. "I'm not there yet, at the point where it stops feeling _fake_. I drove past Bonnie's house today. Her dad's gone. He just left, and no one has any idea where he went or if he's coming back. I've been trying to find her mom, but I can't. I don't even know if she knows. I mean, I assume she knows because I figure her dad would have said, but I don't know for sure. She wasn't at the funeral."

Tyler let himself into his apartment and collapsed down onto his mattress, where he stared up at the water stained ceiling. The stain had grown some, and now it looked a bit like an airplane.

"I don't know," Caroline said. "I shouldn't have said that to Jeremy. I didn't mean it. Well...I guess I meant it. I just didn't mean to _say it_. I just feel like I'm all alone here now. You're gone, and Bonnie's gone. I've tried calling Stefan, but he's...wherever he is. Matt called, and he's in _Germany_. He was gonna come back but then he figured that he was sick of going to funerals for people so he stayed. Can you believe that? He stayed! In Germany! With Rebekah! Bonnie's dead, and Matt's in Germany drinking beer with Rebekah."

It was hard to tell these days which of them was more miserable.

"I should try to sleep," Caroline said. "I'll have to go on an apology tour tomorrow. Love you."

_End of message. _

* * *

**Present Day**

Tyler didn't consider himself much of a mastermind, but he was definitely patting himself on the back for coming up with this plan. Marcel had said he'd call Bonnie and ask her (very politely of course) to stop by the house at Tyler's request, and he delivered. Tyler was alone when Bonnie turned up. It was dark out by the time she came, which was better for his plans anyway.

"I can't stay long," she said as soon as he opened the door. She brushed past him and stood in the foyer, looking at him expectantly. "So what's up?"

"I wanted to thank you for yesterday," Tyler said. "For warning me about the drinks."

Bonnie shrugged. "I figured I was too late anyway."

"Well, yeah," Tyler said, "but it's the thought that counts, right?"

"Sure," she said. "That all?"

"Got somewhere to be?" he asked, searching her face for a break, even the slightest falter. He didn't find one. She had to get back to Hayley, but she wasn't about to tell him that.

"No," she said. "Just don't want to be here."

"I thought you might know why Marcel had to drug me in the first place," he said. "Maybe he told you something."

"He didn't."

"There was something going on in the attic," Tyler said.

Bonnie laughed lightly. "You and the attic."

"There's _something_ up there."

"I'm sure there is," she said sarcastically. "We done?"

Tyler let out a sigh that he hoped sounded convincingly annoyed but resigned. "Yeah, we're done."

"Bye." Bonnie turned on her heel and was out the door in seconds.

Tyler hurried to grab his baseball cap and a pair of sunglasses (he didn't mind being _that_ guy who wore sunglasses at night) where he'd placed them on the sofa, putting them on. He stepped outside and saw Bonnie going down the street, walking at a leisurely pace. He followed. He stayed several feet behind her, keeping other people in between them while keeping his gaze locked on the canary yellow of her top. He thought he lost her a couple times, but heard the metallic clang of the bangles on her wrist and located her again within seconds.

It got tricky when she made for one of the streetcar stops, and Tyler had to find a guy to compel for some spare change. There was a bit of a crowd at the stop, and Tyler managed to maneuver his way to the front while Bonnie remained patient and content at the back. When the car stopped, he boarded in a hurry and went straight to the back where he looked down at his phone and pretended to text.

Bonnie sat at the front. Even if she looked back, it would be hard for her to see him courtesy of the many people boarding, even standing in the aisle and gripping the metal bars lining the row. He had no idea what was going on tonight, but apparently everyone was out. Tyler kept his eyes on Bonnie, waiting for her to move. She got off a few stops later, and Tyler followed suit.

More walking along well lit streets until Bonnie stopped at a tall apartment building with a revolving door. Once she disappeared inside, Tyler gave her a few minutes to get out of the lobby before following. A balding security guard was sitting at the desk.

Compulsion was a really handy device. Tyler learned that Bonnie was in apartment 6B. Sneaking in wouldn't work. He'd need an invitation, and asking Bonnie for one probably wouldn't yield the results he wanted.

Back outside, Tyler tilted his head back to look up at the building and saw fire escapes along the north side of the building. He ducked into the bordering alley and waited for the passing foot traffic to die down before beginning his climb.

He caught snippets of casual conversation as he went, laughs coming from TVs, the beeping of stoves and ovens and the slamming of doors. At the sixth floor, he moved down to the second set of windows. The first set was dark and silent. No one home. At the second he heard voices, both of which he recognized.

"Have you talked to Klaus or Elijah today?" Hayley asked.

As quietly as he could, Tyler inclined his head closer to the window, trying to see past the edge of the curtains. He saw a flash of pale skin and dark hair as Hayley walked past him, unaware of his presence.

"Nope," Bonnie answered. "We don't exactly chat."

"I ordered in," Hayley said. "Chinese. There's some left in the fridge."

"I'm not hungry."

It was nice to know Bonnie's less than stellar attitude wasn't directed toward Tyler personally.

"How aren't you hungry?" Hayley said. "Don't you eat?"

Bonnie's only response was, "I'm going to shower."

"Before you do that," Hayley said quickly. "I'm really craving some ice cream, and since I'm not allowed to leave the apartment, I thought-"

"No."

"It's just down the street," Hayley argued. "It'll take you like ten minutes."

"No," Bonnie repeated. Tyler heard receding footsteps then a shower being turned on and a steady spray of water smacking against tiles.

Hayley was quiet for awhile then shuffling and the jangle of keys. When he heard the front door opening, he realized she was leaving. Going to get her ice cream herself. Perfect. He leapt over the railing and hit the ground with bent knees. He waited in the shadows until he saw Hayley walking by in shorts and an oversized t-shirt.

Tyler hadn't planned this far ahead. He'd just figured he'd go to Bonnie's apartment and see what happened. If he was being honest with himself, he hadn't thought it would work out quite this well with Hayley just walking right in front of him like it was no big deal. He'd expected complications, difficulty, having to return to the house to brainstorm and then coming back tomorrow to try again. The ease of it threw him off.

"Hayley," Tyler said, because he couldn't think of anything else to say.

She jumped at the sound of his voice, and when she turned to face him her eyes grew wide. "Tyler. What are you-" She was tense and mid-turn, to return to the safety of the apartment, but Tyler sped forward to grip her arm, pulling her into the dark of the alley and throwing her against the wall.

"Tyler," Hayley began. "I'm so sorry about-about everything. I-" She was quieted by his hands on her throat, squeezing. More pressure, and he'd crush her windpipe. It would heal, but at least it would keep her quiet. The last thing he wanted to hear was Hayley's bullshit apology.

"Don't," she sputtered. "I'm...I'm..."

_I'm sorry_. _Let me go. Don't kill me. I'm sorry_.

He couldn't do anything with sorry. It wouldn't bring anyone back.

Hayley's hold tightened, her nails dug into his skin. "I'm...pregnant."

White hot pain exploded behind his eyes, blinding and deafening at once. The alley fell away, but he clung to Hayley's presence, told himself to pull it together. He could take some pain, he'd done it before, but he gripped the sides of his head and dropped to the pavement. Level with Hayley's feet, he saw her hurrying away from him, her sneakers scuffed and dirty.

_No_, he thought. He reached for her, but the pain slowed him down. He couldn't even see her anymore. She'd been replaced by multicolored spots that popped in front of his eyes, moving in and out of darkness.

The pain stopped, slowing to a dull ache before disappearing entirely. He pushed himself to his feet and turned to see Bonnie, hair wet and wearing a pair of jeans, a t-shirt and flip-flops.

"What are you doing here?" Bonnie demanded.

"I came to talk to _her_," Tyler said, glaring at Hayley, cowering behind Bonnie with a hand held tenderly at her throat.

"You shouldn't be here," she said. "If Klaus-"

"Klaus isn't here," Tyler snapped. "You and I both know that."

Hayley shifted behind Bonnie, taking a couple quick steps away from her. "Did you know he was here?" she asked. She was going to run, Tyler could see it all over her face, but Bonnie got to her first, spinning around and gripping Hayley's wrist.

"Shut up," she hissed. Hayley's eyes went from being wide to drooping drowsily. Then she slumped, unconscious, into Bonnie's arms. She moved Hayley gently onto the ground and sat her up against the wall.

With that done, she turned back to Tyler. "You need to go back to the house. Now."

"Not until I talk to her."

A little more time, and he could take her heart out or her head off. Just like Klaus did with the hybrids. If drowning her was an option, he'd go for that, too.

"You don't want to _talk_ to her, you want to _kill _her," Bonnie said with a roll of her eyes. "And I can't let you so you might as well just go home."

When Tyler didn't move, Bonnie folded her arms across her chest. "You heard her. She's pregnant. Are you really gonna kill a pregnant girl?"

"I could."

Bonnie cocked her head to the side. "Could you?"

"You want to talk about morality when you're doing all of Klaus' dirty work?" Tyler said. Who knew what Klaus had Bonnie doing?

"Then do it," Bonnie said. "Kill her right now. Then go home and think about how much better you _don't_ feel."

Tyler didn't care about feeling better. He just cared about Hayley not feeling _anything,_ being just as dead as the hybrids, just as dead as his mother. "She got my mom killed," he said. "You _knew _my mom."

"Yeah, I did," Bonnie said, stepping away from Hayley to lean against the opposite wall. "So do it. Kill her."

Did she think he wouldn't? Tyler moved toward Hayley, feeling Bonnie's eyes on him. He crouched down and looked into Hayley's face, her head turned to the side and her eyes closed, her chest rising and falling in her magically induced slumber. She looked younger when she was asleep, less harmless, more innocent, like a teenager. Like him. He dropped his gaze to her stomach where he could make out the faint outline of her stomach through her t-shirt, its giant size now explained.

"Does she want it?" he asked.

"I don't know," Bonnie answered. "Does it matter?"

"I lost the only family I had left because of her," Tyler said. "I could take hers."

It would be...poetic.

"Sure," Bonnie agreed. "So do it."

Tyler knew what she was doing. She thought this reverse psychology crap was going to work on him. It wasn't. He _could_ kill Hayley, even if Bonnie didn't think he could.

Tyler could kill Hayley. He looked at her again, remembered the last time he'd seen her among a winter wonderland, walking away from him as he went to find the hybrids' dead bodies and return home to learn that his mother was dead. His mom paid for Tyler's transgressions, got caught up in Klaus' ideas of showing Tyler who was in charge, reminding him of who was powerful and who was weak. Would Tyler be like Klaus if he got Hayley's baby all caught up in his vengeance?

All the wrong people kept getting hurt.

He stood up and faced the street, unable to look at Hayley anymore and refusing to look at Bonnie. He didn't want to see how satisfied she'd be that she'd pegged him correctly, that she knew exactly what he wasn't capable of. There was a soft shimmer, a muted ripple in the air, and he reached out to touch it, feeling his finger press against a warm barrier that gave way beneath his touch. A woman passed, glanced in Tyler's direction and kept walking. She couldn't see him.

When Tyler turned back to Bonnie, he was prepared for her smug expression, her delightful "that's what I thought" smile, but she was just looking at him. It was the same expression she'd worn almost every time she'd seen him since, mostly blank, observing and cataloguing, maybe caring a minimal amount.

"So now what?" Tyler asked. "She knows I'm here. She could tell Klaus."

"She'll forget," Bonnie said. "All she'll remember tomorrow is that I caught her out here before she could get her stupid ice cream and made her go back inside."

"Thanks."

"I get it," Bonnie said, taking in a breath. "I really do, but if you get struck by one of these killing urges again, ignore it. Don't come looking for Hayley again. Messing with her is messing with Klaus, and you don't want to do that. If you wanted to let Klaus know that you were in town, you should have just told me so I could have let him know."

"Bonnie-"

"The fact that I know you're here is _dangerous,_" she said. "The fact that you're here at my apartment is _dangerous_. For both of us. So don't come here again."

"I heard Klaus left, that's the only reason I came," Tyler said. "I wouldn't have come otherwise."

"What would you have done if you'd actually killed her?" Bonnie questioned. "You think Klaus would just let that slide? That he wouldn't want to know what happened to her? He would find you and kill you. This is after he'd kill me for letting you get close enough to touch her at all. If by some kind of miracle he decided to let me live, he'd kill me as soon as he found out that I'd known you were here."

He wanted to ask her what Hayley and Klaus had to do with each other, but Bonnie wasn't about to let him get a word in.

"I'm on the line, Tyler," she said. "I was on the line the minute I wiped your memories that night, and I am on the line every day that I don't tell Klaus about you. Maybe you don't think it's a lot that I'm doing for you, but I am doing _a lot _for you. You'd be dead by now if I'd told Klaus that you were here, and if I'd told him that you were with Marcel you'd be even _deader_ if that were possible. So don't _ever_ pull this kind of shit again."

"I got it," Tyler said. "I'm sorry."

"Good."

And now he felt bad.

"Do you need help getting her upstairs?" he asked, gesturing to the still sleeping Hayley, who hadn't stirred at all. It was the best olive branch he could come up with.

Bonnie promptly rejected it.

"No, I'm waking her up," she said. "So you should go."

"Okay," he said, as Bonnie knelt down at Hayley's side. "Bye."

She didn't look at him when she said, "Bye."


	12. Little Things

Little Things

Hayley was making breakfast. The clatter of pans and the rattle of opening and closing drawers was what woke Bonnie, but she stayed in bed, turning onto her side to look toward the window where pale morning sunlight poured in. She liked it to be silent in the mornings. She'd gotten so used to it, first back in Mystic Falls and now here. Only now it was being hijacked by the pregnant werewolf taking up residence in her living room.

Bonnie was succeeding at ignoring it when Hayley rapped on her bedroom door. "I made breakfast! Come on, I've got your plate all ready." She knocked again. "It's good, I promise."

With a sigh, Bonnie rolled out of bed. How Hayley had managed to scrounge up breakfast with the limited ingredients in Bonnie's kitchen was a mystery, but she'd ended up with eggs for both of them, toast and a few strips of bacon.

Bonnie sat down silently at the table where Hayley set a tall glass of orange juice down next to her, and then sat down herself. "I'm sorry about last night," Hayley said as Bonnie sprinkled salt onto her eggs.

The spell had taken well. No lost time, no blanks in need of filling, just perfectly falsified recollections of last night. Some perfectly placed annoyance at Bonnie catching her before she could get her ice cream and taking her keys back. Tyler wasn't even a blip on Hayley's radar, and whatever bruises he'd left on her had healed up and disappeared.

It was like it had never happened.

When Bonnie didn't say anything, Hayley kept going. "These cravings are a real bitch, but I'm gonna be on my best behavior. I won't do it again."

No, she wouldn't. Klaus and Elijah would (hopefully) be back sometime tomorrow to take Hayley off Bonnie's hands. She was pretty sure Tyler had heard her last night when she'd told him not to indulge his revenge fantasies anymore, but she didn't like needing to trust him not to do anything stupid again. It was better if Hayley was gone. If that word spread, as all word did, then Tyler surely wouldn't attempt to get to Hayley right under Elijah's and Klaus' noses. He was impulsive maybe, but he wasn't stupid.

All things considered, living with Hayley wasn't _terrible_. She was fairly neat and pretty quiet, even though she was definitely the more talkative of the two of them. It probably wouldn't be as annoying if Hayley was actually allowed to leave the apartment and wander alone, do her own things on her own schedule, but that wasn't the case. She was cooped up Bonnie's apartment, sleeping on a pullout couch and craving ice cream.

Breakfast tasted okay, and they ate in silence.

"So I was wondering," Hayley said, "if it would be okay if I stayed here. You know, after Klaus and Elijah get back. It's a big question to ask, but...I _really_ don't want to go back. I know we don't know each other that well-"

Bonnie looked at her.

"Or at all," Hayley corrected. "But I can be a really great roommate. I can cook, and I'll keep it clean. You won't even know I'm here. I won't give you any trouble."

With a sigh, Bonnie set down her orange juice. "No."

"I-"

Bonnie held up her hand. "I don't like you," she said. Hayley's whole body seemed to deflate. "I knew Carol Lockwood. I didn't like her that much either, but I knew her, and she didn't deserve to drown in a fountain. I didn't know those hybrids either - to be honest my one interaction with them wasn't great - but I doubt they deserved what they got either."

"Klaus-"

"And Tyler," Bonnie interrupted, "who was really nice to you, didn't deserve to lose those people. On top of all that, I like my privacy. _Klaus_ killed them - I know that - but you played your part. Klaus at least pays me. You don't. You've taken over my living room, and you're in the bathroom when I want to be in the bathroom. So no, you can't stay."

Hayley dropped her gaze to the table and picked up her fork. "I think about it all the time," she said. "And I'm sorry _all the time_, but I can't take it back. If Tyler were here-"

"He'd try to kill you," Bonnie said. He'd have succeeded last night if Bonnie hadn't realized Hayley was missing. A few more seconds, and he'd have ripped her to pieces.

"Yeah," Hayley agreed. "Probably. He was nice to me, you're right. He was one of the nicest people I'd ever met, and I ruined his life. I know." She shoved a strand of hair behind her ear in frustration. "I think about him a lot - more than you think - and I wonder where he is. I hope he's somewhere nice. An island or maybe somewhere in the mountains. Somewhere far."

Bonnie supposed the Garden District was kind of far from here.

Hayley pushed her eggs around her plate. "When I first met him, he was alone and in over his head, and it messed with him, being by himself like that. I don't know. He doesn't do well on his own."

* * *

**Two Months Ago**

Klaus' apartment was at the top floor of a super posh, super expensive building that overlooked the river with a steel balcony was adorned with potted plants and outdoor furniture. That was where Bonnie found him when she stepped inside, the front door left open for her. There was an olive skinned woman outside with him, leaning against the railing with her dark curls blowing around her face and a giant pair of sunglasses on top of her head.

Bonnie knocked on the glass a couple of times and both Klaus and the woman turned to look her way. Klaus held up a finger, but a look of panic crossed the woman's face and she spun back to Klaus. Bonnie didn't know what that was about, but she wheeled around to go sit on the couch.

The apartment was done up in shades of black and white and was far more modern (and better lit) than Klaus' mansion back in Mystic Falls. Once he'd gotten it, he'd taken Bonnie there to make sure that it was fully protected. The same routine had gone down at Elijah's place.

A few minutes passed before Klaus and the woman came back in. She left without saying a word.

"Who was that?" Bonnie asked after the door had swung shut.

"Her name is Lydia," Klaus said. "She's with Marcel."

Bonnie didn't recognize her, and she thought she was getting pretty familiar with all of Marcel's favorites. If Lydia was wandering around during the daytime she must have been pretty high up on Marcel's ladder of people he cared for, high up enough to ensure that she got some piece of daylight jewelry. But Bonnie was certain she'd never seen her before.

"So what was she doing here?"

"She'd like to be of _my_ family," Klaus said, rounding the sofa to sit down at Bonnie's side. "She wants to come over to the winning side. Smart girl. She was a little concerned about your involvement."

Bonnie arched an eyebrow. "Why?"

"She knows you," Klaus said with an annoying smirk. "You're the witch sleeping with Marcel."

"_Slept_ with Marcel," Bonnie corrected. "Just once."

"Either way," Klaus said, "she was concerned you may inform him of her coming to me."

Bonnie shrugged her shoulders carelessly. "I won't."

Bonnie was sure there'd been lots of kings in history undone by sex, but Marcel wasn't one of them. And she wasn't about to toss aside her fairly cushy lifestyle here just because Marcel was good with his hands (and certain other parts of his anatomy) and didn't mind taking direction. It had only happened once, and there wasn't going to be a repeat performance, no matter how many sexts Marcel sent her.

Klaus teased her about it sometimes, asking her to seduce Marcel into letting his guard down so Klaus could swoop in and steal New Orleans right from under him. Even if Bonnie hadn't told herself it was a one-night stand, even if she'd allowed Klaus to write Sex Worker into her employment contract, sex wouldn't be enough to make Marcel lose focus.

"I know you won't," Klaus assured her, "but I'll need you to keep an eye on Lydia when you're attending Marcel's functions. I need to make sure she's telling us the truth about her allegiance. We can't afford to be caught off guard."

"Got it," Bonnie said. "Anything else?"

Klaus sighed heavily and crossed one leg over the other. "Did you know that Matt Donovan was spending his summer traveling the world with my sister?"

"No," she answered. It had gotten easier to not think about anyone from back home. Bonnie hadn't spared much thought for Matt's, or anyone else's summer plans. She certainly hadn't thought about Rebekah's. It was an odd pairing, but Bonnie was currently sharing a couch with Klaus so there was no room for her to judge.

"He is."

"So?"

Klaus shrugged. "I'm just wondering how long she's going to hold onto this fantasy she has of being human."

Bonnie rolled her eyes. "Did you call me here so we could have a heartfelt chat about your crappy relationship with Rebekah? Because if you did, I think I should go."

"Have a glass of wine first," Klaus said, standing up in a flash and returning with a glass filled to the brim with rich, red liquid.

* * *

**Present Day**

Bonnie didn't intend to make her way to the house. It just happened. She was walking as she always did, sunglasses on, dress swirling around her knees, and when she looked up she was standing outside Marcel's house, stepping onto the pathway and going up the stairs to the front door. She shouldn't be here, not anymore than Tyler should have been at her apartment last night. They both needed to stop straying from where they were supposed to be. But Bonnie still went up and rang the bell.

Tyler answered after a couple of minutes, shirtless and bleary eyed, raising an inquisitive eyebrow when he saw her. "Hey," he said, glancing anxiously beyond the gate to the empty sidewalk. "What are you-"

"Can I come in?"

Tyler nodded and stepped away from the door so she could go past him. "What are you doing here?"

"I came to make sure you're over your revenge fantasy," she said, doing a quick sweep of the house. They were alone.

"For the most part," Tyler said, folding his arms across his chest. "I won't be making anymore surprise visits to your apartment, and I won't go after Hayley again either. Scout's honor."

"You were never a scout," Bonnie said, turning away from him and walking into the living room where she tossed her bag down on the sofa.

Tyler followed her. "Still counts."

Bonnie looked at the ceiling, let her gaze travel the floor to the very spot where she and Marcel had done their horizontal mambo and smiled to herself. That night definitely made the Top Ten Nights Spent in New Orleans Being Alive While Everyone Thought She Was Dead, if only for the sex.

Marcel was annoying, but he was good for something.

"It's a nice house," Bonnie said, tilting her head back to the high ceiling. During the day it took on a hazy, dreamlike kind of quality, different from the dim mysteriousness of it during the night when all the shadows looked deep and the red furniture looked particularly red. With the sunlight coming through the windows, there were dust motes that floated with a whimsical lightness throughout the rooms.

"Yeah," Tyler agreed. "Besides the ghost rattling around in the attic."

"Still on that?" Bonnie said, looking back at him and sitting down on the couch.

"I swear to God there's something up there," he said, claiming the chair across from her. "I hear it all the time."

Bonnie repeated the sweep, focusing on the attic where she came away with nothing, as expected. She told him so.

"Marcel was up there the other day," Tyler said, "when he drugged me. I heard stuff."

"Ooh, stuff," Bonnie said. "Creepy."

"Something was going on up there."

"Well, it's not going on now."

They sat awkwardly and silently, and Bonnie wondered why she'd come here at all. What did she expect other than this uncomfortable silence? Tyler seemed just as uncertain as she did, staring at the floor.

"Do you want me to put a shirt on?" he asked finally. "I can."

"Don't worry about it," she said. "I've seen you without a shirt before."

If there was any kind of party happening outside when it was moderately warm, Tyler would have his shirt off. Every Halloween since they were fifteen, Tyler had been shirtless, and every summer it was like he threw all of his shirts away.

Did that qualify as thinking of Mystic Falls? Was that something she was supposed to be avoiding? Or was it okay because Tyler was right here, and it applied to the current conversation? She decided it was best to play it safe, and she commanded herself to stop thinking about it.

Again, she wondered why she'd come.

"How's Hayley?" he asked.

"Fine," Bonnie answered. "She doesn't remember what happened, like I said."

"Good," he said. "And thanks for that."

Bonnie pressed her lips together into a weak smile.

"And thanks for everything else, too," he added. "I never thanked you for not telling Klaus. I just kind of...I don't know. I took it as a given, I guess."

Bonnie nodded. She almost said, "No problem." But it _was_ a problem. This whole thing was a problem, and she wasn't exactly making it any better for herself. She couldn't tell which of them was worse in this situation. Probably her. She may have finally jarred Tyler into understanding just how complicated their situation was, and then she _had_ to stop by for a friendly chat.

"How far along is she?" Tyler asked, oblivious to Bonnie's agitation.

"About four months."

"Who's the father?"

"I don't know," she said. She'd never been a bad liar, not necessarily, but she'd never made much of a habit of it either. But the lie rolled easily off her tongue, and Tyler seemed to believe it. Even if he didn't, Klaus wouldn't be the first name to come to mind anyway.

"So how's it going?" Tyler asked. "You like it here?"

Bonnie shrugged. She hadn't given it a lot of thought. This wasn't the life she'd dreamed up for herself in middle school, but it wasn't _bad_. It was a life, more than she would have had if Qetsiyah had let her stay dead. That was what she'd wanted, and that was what mattered. "There are worse places to be."

"You think back home was worse than here?"

"Since I've been here I haven't died once," she said. "In Mystic Falls I was working up a tally."

_Too much information. Too much information_. It went off like alarm bells in her head. _Shut up. Shut up. Shut up_.

"You don't," she said, turning it back around on him. "Like it here, I mean."

"Not really," he said. "I mean, it's a nice place, and I'd probably really like it if the circumstances were different. But they're not. I keep thinking that I could go back if I wanted to. That I could at least call Caroline. My whole reason for _not _doing those things is here doing whatever the hell he wants. And so is _Hayley_. And me. And you. It's just...weird."

"Yeah, it's weird."

She wouldn't have expected Tyler to be here. She'd sooner expect to see Caroline, lured here by Klaus' strange lovesick declarations, and she definitely didn't expect that to happen anytime soon. But Tyler? He was supposed to be somewhere else. Somewhere obscure and deserted, maybe way up north on a ranch or something. But not here with her.

It was funny how those things worked out.

Bonnie heard the front door opening then whistling, and she knew it was Marcel before he stepped into the living room, his trademark grin lighting up his face. "Bonnie. What are you doing here?"

"I was just leaving," Bonnie said, reaching for her bag.

"Wait," Tyler said. "I-"

"Are you going to be joining us tonight?" Marcel asked.

"For what?"

"An execution," Marcel said. "Three actually. It's gonna be great. Free drinks for all."

"We'll see," Bonnie said. She'd only gone to one of those things once, and it hadn't been very exciting. It had been a little depressing.

"Ty, walk Bonnie out," Marcel said. "We've gotta talk business anyway." He winked in Bonnie's direction and turned to disappear from sight.

"Sorry," Tyler said as Bonnie started toward the door. He walked with her, and stepped in front of the door before she could open it. "Thanks for coming by. It was nice talking to you, you know, for the like few minutes we got to. And you didn't bite my head off once," he added with a grin.

"There's still time."

Tyler's grin widened. "See you tonight?" he asked, raising his eyebrows hopefully.

It was pathetic really, how Bonnie almost wanted to go, just so Tyler wouldn't have to endure it alone. She shouldn't have had breakfast with Hayley. If she'd just pretended to be asleep, she wouldn't have talked to her about Tyler and his _loneliness_, and she wouldn't have come here.

"Maybe," she said before Tyler stepped away from the door. He held it open for her as she stepped out.

* * *

When Bonnie got back to her apartment, Klaus was waiting for her. He sat at the dining room table drinking a glass of wine and staring out the window. "You're not in my bed this time," Bonnie said as she tossed her keys onto the counter.

"I didn't want to risk a spill on your sheets," Klaus said, raising his glass to her in greeting.

Bonnie scanned the room and found it empty. The couch was back in its neatly folded position. "Where's Hayley?"

"Elijah took her home."

"Oh," Bonnie said. She didn't know why she felt so bad about that. She'd meant every word she'd said that morning, and she wasn't going to change her mind. She reminded herself never to have breakfast with another person ever again. "Why are you back so early?"

"Rebekah was easier to convince than I anticipated," Klaus said, draining the glass and reaching for the bottle next to him. "She's here now."

"Where?"

"With Elijah. She's still not very..._open_ to reconciling with me, but her around-the-world whatever it was with Matt came to an end as soon as they were back on American soil so she's feeling a bit...blue." He chuckled to himself. "Sometimes her naiveté astounds me. Grab a glass, Bonnie. Drink with me."

Bonnie took a glass down from one of the kitchen cabinets and sat down across from Klaus. She held out her glass, and he touched her fingers as he poured the wine.

"Is Rebekah excited about her yet-to-be-born niece or nephew?" Bonnie asked, raising her glass to her lips.

"Of course she is," Klaus said. "She's always wanted children, but I haven't considered that kind of life in a long time. If nature should be giving anyone a baby, it's her." He traced circles on top of the dining room table, watching his finger move. "Did everything go alright with Hayley?" he asked, seeming to recall this was Bonnie's apartment and probably not the best place to have some kind of existential crisis.

"She was a joy."

"I can imagine," Klaus said. "If I'd known this would happen I never would have slept with her."

"I'm sure the feeling's mutual."

"As am I," he agreed. "Ah, before I forget." He reached into his pocket and withdrew a silver strand strung with diamonds and rubies that glinted in the light.

"It matches my necklace," Bonnie said, setting down her glass.

"You did say there'd be bonus points," he said, extending the bracelet in front of her. She held her wrist out over the table, and he fastened the clasp with swift fingers. "Are you sure you wouldn't have preferred a car?" he asked, turning her wrist to examine the jewels better.

"Maybe next time," Bonnie said, dropping her gaze to where he kept his gentle hold on her wrist, his fingers pressed against the exact spot where her pulse thrummed steadily.

"What about my bonus points?" he asked, lowering his voice.

Bonnie smiled. "Those are more...abstract."

Klaus laughed and let her go, drawing back so his fingertips brushed against hers before he folded his arms across his chest. "Do you ever think about how I am the closest thing you have to a friend here?"

"I don't," she said, taking another sip of her wine.

"No?"

"Never," she lied. "I have a suggestion for you."

"A suggestion," Klaus repeated slowly.

"Where's Rebekah staying?"

"She's looking at places tomorrow. Why?"

"I think you should let Hayley live with her instead of Elijah."

"You do?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Because Elijah's an ass," Bonnie said. She didn't know if staying with Rebekah would be any better, but it was worth a shot. If Rebekah was so gung-ho for the baby show then maybe she'd be willing to let Hayley stay with her, and Rebekah was always going on and on about wanting friends. It could be a win/win. "And so are you," she added which made Klaus smile. "Hayley's miserable, and she's gonna have your kid so it would be nice if you'd try to make her a little _less_ miserable. But it's just a suggestion."

"I'll consider it," Klaus said, with a wave of his hand. "Shall we finish the bottle?"

Bonnie finished off her glass and held it out for a refill.

They went through the bottle in a less than half an hour, and when it was empty Klaus stood to leave. "If you change your mind about the _abstract_ nature of those points, feel free to call."

Bonnie stayed at the table and smiled down at her hands without speaking.

When Klaus was gone, Bonnie went into her bedroom where she sat down at her vanity and stared at her reflection. She adjusted her necklace and bracelet, brushed her hair and pondered going to watch Marcel kill some witches tonight. She remembered that hopeful look on Tyler's face, but then she remembered Bonnie 2.0.

She'd be doing all of this differently. She wouldn't have bothered going to see Tyler today, and she wouldn't have batted an eyelash at Hayley's living arrangement.

_And you were doing so well_, Bonnie 2.0 said. _Careful, Bonnie. It starts off with the little things. Being friendly with Tyler, a word on Hayley's behalf to Klaus. Next thing you know you're dead in a dirty basement. _Tread lightly. _There are no more do-overs._

* * *

**Quick note if any of you were wondering: all of S4 is canon in this with the exception of Klaus telling Caroline he'd let Tyler come back to town. Otherwise everything else happened. Even the stupid stuff. ****Thanks for reading and reviewing! **


	13. Kingmaking

Kingmaking

Tyler watched Bonnie as she disappeared down the street. She didn't spare him a second glance as she went, and she was out of sight within seconds. Tyler didn't turn around until he heard Marcel calling for him then he stepped back into the house, closing the door behind him. "What's the business we have to talk about?" he asked, joining Marcel in the kitchen where he was drinking a blood bag at the counter.

"Well, first," Marcel said, after taking another sip of the blood, "I'm impressed with you."

"Why?"

"You got Bonnie here," he said. "You didn't have to ask her to come either. She just...did. Because she wanted to. She wanted to see _you_. And that's good."

Tyler wasn't sure what to make of Bonnie's impromptu visit. She hadn't said much before Marcel kicked her out. If he hadn't been so quick on that front maybe Tyler would have been able to have a better conversation with her, one that actually went somewhere. He hadn't even gotten to ask her to elaborate on the whole Mystic Falls thing before she was changing the subject. It was hard to figure out what were appropriate topics of conversation with her.

"Then why did you make her leave?" Tyler asked as he sat on the stool across from Marcel.

"Because we have to talk business, and we need to be selective about the things we tell Bonnie," he said. "At least until we're sure she's on our side."

_Our _side. Tyler nodded his head along even though he didn't believe it. Marcel's side was Marcel's side. _"_Okay," he sighed. "Well, talk."

Marcel didn't know about Tyler's visit to Bonnie's apartment, and he wasn't about to tell him. As far as he was concerned it hadn't happened, and Bonnie was unlikely to share it with Marcel. Or at least he hoped she wouldn't.

"Werewolf girl's pregnant," Marcel said, and Tyler made sure to pretend to be surprised.

"Really?" he said. "That's...not what I expected."

"You think _that's_ shocking?" Marcel said. "Wait until I tell you who the father is."

He wouldn't have to pretend with this one. He'd assumed Bonnie had been telling the truth about not knowing, but it wouldn't have surprised him if she'd lied. "Who?"

"Klaus."

Tyler rolled his eyes. "Klaus can't-"

"Apparently he can," Marcel cut him off, "because of _nature_ and because he was a wolf before he was a vampire. Or something equally ridiculous." He waved his hand dismissively. "I don't know how it all works, but I know it _did_ work. Now Klaus has a baby on the way."

At least this explained why Klaus was so interested in Hayley.

"Are you sure?" Tyler asked.

Marcel nodded. "I got one of the witches to talk. She spilled everything."

"You got her to talk how?"

"I have ways." He didn't elaborate, and Tyler remembered the noises he'd heard from the attic the other day. The crying and the faint pained sounds. Even if Marcel's _ways_ included a trip into the attic, he wasn't going to give Tyler any details so he refrained from asking. Eventually he'd find out what was up there, but Marcel wasn't going to be the one to tell him.

"So Klaus is having a baby," Tyler said, looking down at his folded hands on top of the table. He tried to picture Klaus with a baby. He saw a pastel toned bundle, face hidden but screeching relentlessly. It was only a few seconds before Klaus ripped the bundle to pieces and the crying abruptly stopped. The thought was horrifying and hilarious, and Marcel arched his eyebrows in amusement as Tyler laughed.

"Okay," Marcel sighed, folding his arms across his chest. "Get it all out."

"You don't think this is funny?"

"Werewolves procreating in my city?" Marcel said. "No, that's not very funny to me, but you go ahead. I'll wait."

That only made Tyler laugh harder. Tyler didn't know if Marcel was serious or not, but he tried to stop laughing. It was just really hard to do. How did Klaus end up with a baby on the way when they were _dead_? How did he and Hayley even end up sleeping together? How did Tyler end up with no family left, but _Klaus_ got a kid?

The universe really was laughing at him.

"Does this mean I could get a girl pregnant?" Tyler asked, when his laughter began to subside. He'd never been big on science, but even the basic information he knew screamed that any baby making ability he'd possessed had been lost the night he'd become a hybrid. He hadn't been too broken up about it then, but he also didn't spare too much thought for it either.

Marcel looked thoughtful. "I guess," he said with a shrug of his shoulders, "as long as _nature_ signs off on it first."

"What does that even mean?"

"I wish I knew."

"This is insane," Tyler said, running his fingers through his hair. He wished he could tell Caroline. She'd probably laugh, too. Did Klaus plan on carrying on his creepy courtship of Caroline with a baby strapped to his back? If Caroline did by some incredible and unbelievable turn of fate decide to take Klaus up on his offer of romance, did Klaus think she was going to play stepmother? And how did Klaus plan on playing father himself?

It was all just so funny.

He was back to the visual of shredded blankets and a fuming Klaus, and he started laughing all over again which earned him an annoyed huff from Marcel. Tyler swallowed done what was left of his laughter and looked up expectantly. "Okay," he said. "I'm done."

"Are you sure?" Marcel asked dryly. "Cause I'm a patient guy. Take your time."

"I'm fine. Now what?"

"I'm thinking on it," Marcel said. "What we talked about yesterday still stands. Any assault on Hayley is one on Klaus, and he'll react to that. But I spent years running all the werewolves out of this city, and now there's one right in the middle of it about to give birth to _another_ one." He gave his head a quick shake. "I don't think so. But don't worry about it. I'll come up with something."

* * *

**Two Months Ago**

"Remember the apology tour I was gonna go on?" Caroline asked. "Well, I decided against it. I'm going to say sorry eventually, you know, but why rush? I mean, I told Jeremy I was sorry, but I don't think he believed me, and Elena's busy with Damon so the way I see it, she can_ stay_ busy with Damon, and I'll stay busy with own stuff."

"Sounds like a plan," Tyler said. He pulled some crumpled dollar bills from his pocket and passed them to the hot dog vendor. It only took him a couple of bites to finish off his hot dog, and he tossed his trash into a nearby can.

The flea market was packed. He'd picked a good day to give it a shot. As his first time out without Lydia, he was determined to stay here for at least half an hour before he returned to his apartment. He explored the erected stands, peeking at homemade jewelry, Mardi Gras masks and hand sewn clothing, not bothered by the people who jostled him on both sides.

"She'd rather hang out with Damon and grieve with him than with me anyway," Caroline continued as Tyler stopped at a table covered in jewelry. There was a pair of gold, dangly ones that Caroline might like if he was ever able to give them to her. It was unlikely, but he bought them anyway and pocketed them to continue to his stroll through the market.

"Bonnie didn't even _like_ Damon," Caroline said, "and he couldn't stand her either so I don't see the point in pretending like Damon's all that broken up about her being dead now, you know?"

In the background he could hear her pacing her room and the creak of the floorboards underneath her feet while he stopped at a table loaded with glass figurines. They were in various shapes, animals and flowers and trees. There was a rose-shaped one he thought his mom may have liked. He left it where it was and told himself to focus on Caroline.

"In other news," she said. "My mom found out where Bonnie's dad ran off to. He's in Georgia with family, and apparently Abby's there, too. My mom said she doesn't think he'll be coming back. I'm getting stuff ready for school. I figure if I just focus on that then it won't be so hard. So I went shopping today, and I got a bunch of stuff for my room. Well, me and Elena's room. My mom told me I'd probably regret it if I called Whitmore and told them I wanted a new roommate."

She probably would.

Caroline went on to give him a detailed list of all the things she'd purchased, and Tyler tried to pay attention, but he'd used to tune these things out when Caroline was right in front him. With just her voice in his ear it was even easier for him to go somewhere else. And the market was a prime location for letting his mind wander though his mind wasn't really going to any great places.

If he let himself stare for too long he saw more things his mom would have liked, little trinkets that he'd have probably given her for Christmas or her birthday, jewelry and handbags she'd have loved. Then he started seeing her examining them, picking them up and turning them over in her hands to appraise the craftsmanship.

"This one looks cheap," Carol said, wrapping a scarf around her neck and looking at her reflection. He blinked, and it wasn't her but another woman around his mom's age. She didn't look anything like her really and was unaware of Tyler looking at her. A boy at her side was young, maybe thirteen and annoyed looking, punching away at the keyboard of his phone.

_End of message. _

Tyler was so startled by the automated voice that he dropped his phone. He managed to catch it before it hit the ground and immediately left.

* * *

**Present Day**

Tyler could have sat out the execution, but Marcel insisted, and he said Bonnie would probably show up. Putting Tyler on the ground with the rest of the viewers wasn't possible because of the large crowd so Marcel put him on one of the balconies where he could watch from above. To Marcel it was a big show. There was music and drinking and dancing, and somewhere there were three witches waiting to be paraded out and killed in front of them all.

Tyler scanned the crowd for any sign of Bonnie. Among the sea of faces he couldn't find her. He still hadn't spotted her when the music was turned down and the dancing paused, the voices of the revelers dropping to whispers. When the witches walked down the lane, escorted by Duke, Ronan and Sloane, they kept their gazes hard and stared straight ahead.

It all happened very quickly. There was hardly any speaking. They were named. Mary, Vanessa and Claire. Sisters who'd performed unauthorized magic. It took Marcel less than a minute to swipe at each of their throats and they crumpled to the ground in turn. Duke, Ronan and Sloane carried the bodies away amidst cheers from the gathered crowd. The music came back on and the drinks started flowing again. No one spared a second thought for the three witches who'd just been killed.

"Morbid, isn't it?"

Tyler wheeled around and saw Bonnie stepping out onto the balcony with two glasses of beer in hand. "Hey," he said. "I didn't think you were gonna make it."

"And miss those three witches dying? Never," she said dully.

"Thirsty?" Tyler asked, nodding down to her drinks.

"One of these is for you," Bonnie said, holding one out to him. When he took it, she raised hers to her mouth and gulped it down in matter of seconds. She dropped the empty glass over the railing where it plummeted to the ground, and Tyler heard the shatter like it had happened right next to his ear.

"Do these things happen a lot?" he asked. "The executions?"

"Less than you'd think," Bonnie answered. "By now everyone's learned not to break Marcel's rules. He's all about giving a show, something Klaus taught him about never missing out on an opportunity to show power, and Marcel never does."

"Is it hard?" Tyler asked her. "To watch other witches die?" Maybe that would account for her strange mood. But all of Bonnie's moods seemed strange now. One minute she was cold and the next she was at the house being awkward but friendly and now he didn't know what this mood was.

"Not any harder than it is to watch someone else die," she said. "I don't watch the execution anyway. I go inside and take advantage of the nonexistent line for drinks. Speaking of," she turned her head to him and nodded down to his beer, "are you going to drink that? I promise it's not laced with anything."

Tyler grinned as he raised the glass to his lips. "Thanks," he said. "And thanks for having my back. I really do appreciate it."

"So you said."

Bonnie stared down to the lane below packed with celebratory vampires. He followed her gaze, and he could see Marcel cutting a line through the crowd, accepting greetings from everyone he passed, embracing a few of them.

"So," Tyler said finally, "why are you up here talking to me? There's a whole party going on down there."

"I told you once. No one talks to me but you," she said. "And Marcel sometimes, and I don't want to talk to Marcel."

He couldn't blame her for that. "Why doesn't anyone talk to you?"

"They don't like me."

Tyler had never really met anyone who didn't like Bonnie. Damon Salvatore hadn't seemed to be crazy about her, but it wasn't like anyone really valued his opinion. And it wasn't like Bonnie had liked him either. Everyone else Tyler had known really liked her. Liked her so much that her death had rocked Mystic Falls, more so than any other, and Tyler wondered if she was aware of how much people missed her.

"Why not?" he asked.

"Just something I did," Bonnie said, "for Klaus."

"What did you do?"

"Just something," she repeated. "It's not important."

It seemed like it may be a little important, but Bonnie's tone screamed _Don't ask_ so Tyler swallowed down his questions about it. She was like Marcel that way. He was learning it was better not to ask them questions he knew they wouldn't answer, but figuring out which questions they _would_ answer was the hard part.

"Why'd you come over today?" he asked. "I thought you made yourself pretty clear last night."

Bonnie was nothing if not clear. Well, now she seemed a little hazy, and Tyler couldn't tell if she wanted him to leave her alone or if she wanted the opposite. What else could explain her showing up at the house and seeking him out now? Maybe she was lonelier than she was ready to admit.

"I told you I wanted to make sure you wouldn't do anything stupid again."

"That the only reason?"

Bonnie was quiet for a few seconds. Then, "Yeah."

Tyler nodded and gripped the railing with both hands. "So," he said, "I know who the father of Hayley's baby is."

Bonnie's facial expression didn't change. She only blew out a short breath and turned to face him. "One of the witches talked."

"I don't think she had much of a choice."

"Probably not."

"Are you gonna tell Klaus?" Tyler asked.

Bonnie was silent, thinking to herself. Finally she said, "Klaus is already operating under the assumption that Marcel knows, so there's no reason for me to confirm."

Tyler smiled as he leaned against the railing. "I've got your back, too," he said. "If you need anything, I'll help you. Marcel and Klaus don't have to know. You're the only person here that I trust, and you can trust me, too. And the way I see it, now that we both know about Klaus' kid, we can laugh about it together."

Out of the corner of his eye he saw Bonnie smile. It was slow, like it was against her better judgment to do it. "I keep thinking I'll get used to the idea, but every time I think about it, it sounds more ridiculous."

Tyler laughed. "Can you imagine him with a kid?

"I can, and it's terrible."

"Maybe the kid will get lucky."

"Sure, let's tell ourselves that," Bonnie said, checking the face of her phone. "I should go."

"You just got here," he said. "Klaus need you for something?"

"No," Bonnie said. "This party just blows, and I'm really tired."

"I can't tell if you're lying or not," he said, searching her face like a twitch of her nose might give him his answer.

"I'm not," she said, but the corner of her mouth lifted into a small smile, and she turned to go.

"See you later?" Tyler called after her. She paused for a moment and swallowed.

"Yeah," she said. "Later."

* * *

Duke drove Tyler home. Marcel was up front with him, and Tyler was surprised when he told Duke to wait and got out of the car. "I'm not kissing you goodnight, you know," he said as Marcel followed him up the steps.

"There's a tragedy."

"So, what is it?" Tyler asked, opening up the front door and leading Marcel inside. "You're lingering so you must have something you want to share."

"What'd you and Bonnie talk about?"

He mentally went through his conversation with Bonnie, picking out the damning parts and considering whether or not Marcel could have found out about them. He decided there was no way he'd know.

Tyler shrugged. "She's not very talkative," he said, "but we talked about home a little. Nothing important, nothing about Klaus or Hayley if that's what you mean."

Marcel nodded. "Klaus called tonight."

"What did he say?"

He didn't answer. It was then Tyler realized he was more drunk than he was sober, slightly unsteady as he went into the living room where he threw himself down on the sofa. "We're alike, you know," he said. "You. Me. Klaus."

"Was that a compliment or an insult?"

Marcel smiled. "Klaus took everything from you because you had what he wanted. You had your family, your pack, a girl who loved you. He couldn't let you have that, and he's trying to do the same thing to me because Klaus doesn't like it when you're doing better than him. The difference between you and me is that I have the resources to hold onto what's mine, and I can teach you to do the same."

"You want to teach me?" Tyler asked.

Marcel nodded. "You're gonna help me keep my city, and by the time we're through, you'll be a King."

Tyler stepped toward the chair across from Marcel, sitting down slowly and looking at him through narrowed eyes, trying to gauge his drunkenness. That sounded nice. Ridiculous but nice. "Then what?"

"Then you can stay or you can leave. You can do whatever you want." Marcel threw up his hands. "It's up to you. _That's_ what mentors are supposed to do. They give you the lessons, and then they let you do whatever you want with them. And whatever you do, whatever you make, it's _yours_. Not mine, not Klaus'. Yours."

There was a thump from the attic, and they tilted their heads upward in unison. For a split second Tyler wondered if Marcel was drunk enough to answer some questions about that.

Marcel groaned up at the ceiling and stood to approach the bar where he pulled out two glasses to fill to the brim. He handed one to Tyler and collapsed back down onto the sofa. "One day," he said, "maybe in a few centuries, you're gonna meet some kid. He's gonna be broken down and alone, and you're gonna look at him and remember exactly what that felt like. You'll decide right then that you're gonna teach him, and you're gonna teach him well."

"Marcel-" Tyler began, holding his drink but not drinking it. Whatever he and Klaus had talked about on the phone, it must have been a pretty heavy conversation.

"I know about your father," Marcel said, taking a drink. He ignored Tyler's wide eyes and spoke before Tyler had a chance to ask him how he knew. "I was owned by men like him. My entire human life was spent under the control of people who thought I was worthless. When I became a vampire I decided I was never going to let anyone tell me what I did and didn't deserve or what I could and couldn't have. And I was never going to let them take what was mine again.

"You can give people everything," Marcel went on. "Your loyalty, your friendship, your respect, and some of them will still never see you as anything. You're just there for them, for their use, for their...whatever. Klaus taught me everything I know, but _I_ built this city. Now he's here telling me that _he_ did that because when he looks at me, I'm still just a slave. It doesn't matter what I do or how many successes I have because people like Klaus are always going to think that I don't matter. The minute I stopped treating him like he made me was the minute he decided he was going to take everything." He gulped down what was left of his drink. "Did you hate your father?" he asked, looking Tyler directly in the eye.

"It was...complicated."

"Complicated," Marcel repeated.

"When he died I think I was relieved," Tyler said, "but I felt guilty for thinking that. He was my dad. Without him I wouldn't exist." His drink was beginning to look really good so he drank down the whole thing and set the empty glass on the table.

"That's how they trap you," Marcel said, dragging a finger along the edge of his glass. "Without them we wouldn't be here. That's how we start thinking that we owe them something."

Tyler was pretty sure he'd gotten over 'owing' Klaus something the minute he decided to break his sire bond. He didn't owe Klaus anything, but maybe he wasn't the one having trouble with that. "Do you feel guilty?" he asked. "About all this?"

Marcel sucked in a breath. "I'm certain that Klaus saved my life when he turned me. If he hadn't, I would have followed my family into the grave within weeks, maybe days. I _am_ grateful, but I thanked him centuries ago. Now I'm done." He set down his glass and pushed himself to his feet. "I'm going home to sleep this off. I need to have it together in the morning. Rebekah Mikaelson's coming to town."

* * *

**I'm headed back to school soon so updates are probably going to start coming only once a week, hence the longer wait this time around. Thanks for reading and reviewing!**


	14. A Good Thing

**I apologize for the delay in updating. I just got back to school, and everything got really crazy. I'll try to stay on schedule from now on. Thanks for reading and reviewing!**

* * *

A Good Thing

In the morning, Bonnie stayed in bed long after she'd woken up. She spread her arms to the sides and closed her eyes, listening to the apartment. The hum of the air conditioner was the only sound except for her breathing.

Until the knocking started.

Bonnie closed her eyes and inhaled deeply before she rolled out of bed to pad her way to the front door. A glance through the peephole revealed a head of shiny blond hair, and for a split second, panic seized her chest. It faded quickly, as soon as Bonnie reminded herself that blond hair didn't automatically mean Caroline anymore.

Just Rebekah.

Once her heart slowed itself to its regular pace, Bonnie opened the door.

Rebekah stood in the hallway dressed in a white sundress, sunglasses dangling from her finger tips and her lips smeared with pale pink lipgloss. Her mouth curved upward into an amused smirk, and she let out a barking laugh.

"When my brother told me you were here I didn't believe him," Rebekah said. "Faking your death isn't _that_ surprising, I suppose, but following my brother to New Orleans? _That_ I did not expect."

"Did you drag me out of bed just to see me with your own two eyes?" Bonnie said, leaning against the door.

"I came to request my invitation," Rebekah said. "Elijah tells me I should be allowed entrance into your home."

"I'll need Klaus to tell me that," Bonnie said. "I'm not inviting you in."

Rebekah narrowed her eyes. "At least help me move in?"

Bonnie took in Rebekah's empty hands and the equally empty hallway. "Looks like you've got it covered," she said.

Rebekah smiled. "You know, Matt and I were in Ireland when we heard about your...demise. He was very upset about it. The whole thing nearly derailed our trip, but Matt decided against going to your funeral."

"I'm sure he'll make the same decision about yours," Bonnie said breezily.

Rebekah pressed her lips together. "I see no reason we can't be cordial, Bonnie, as it appears we're on the same side."

"I'm on Klaus' side," Bonnie said. "It doesn't take a genius to know that you're probably not there yet." Just because Rebekah was here didn't mean she was going to be fighting for Klaus' cause.

"I was here when this city was built," Rebekah said. "If you ask me I've got just as big a claim to it as Klaus and Marcel do."

"Throwing your hat into the ring then?" Bonnie asked. "_That_ would be interesting."

"On the contrary," Rebekah said. "I don't care what happens to this place. It's just a city. They used to fall and be rebuilt all the time in my day. As long as I'm still here when construction starts, I'm fine."

"That's good to know," Bonnie said dully. "We done?"

"I heard it's because of you I'll be getting a roommate," Rebekah went on. "Thank you for that."

"Well I know how desperate you are for friendship," Bonnie said. "I thought I was doing you a favor. Where's Hayley anyway?"

"She'll be here soon," Rebekah said, "once I'm all settled in. I'm very excited about it. I think we bonded quite a bit last night. Feel free to come by whenever you like. We'd love to have you over some time. For dinner, for drinks. We can have a girls' night, I know you probably haven't been able to have many of those since your death."

"Bekah!"

Bonnie didn't need to look to know it was Marcel making his way down the hall, but she almost laughed at Rebekah's face as she turned to face him. A mix of annoyance, surprise and vague interest.

"Marcel," she said. "It's been awhile."

"Agreed," Marcel said, opening his arms to pull Rebekah into a hug. She returned it, patting his back and releasing him within seconds. "You look beautiful. As always."

Bonnie blinked in Marcel's direction, trying to figure out what his game was. He was a flirt, but he'd be careful about flirting with Rebekah. No matter how appreciative Marcel was of a beautiful woman, he had a city he was trying to keep hold of, and Klaus' sister wasn't going to be anyone's first choice in an ally. Bonnie wasn't even sure if she was on Klaus' list.

"As do you," Rebekah said, turning her lips upward into a smile that looked a bit too stiff to be genuine.

"Well," Bonnie said, "I'm gonna go." She moved to step back into her apartment, but Marcel held out a hand.

"Not so fast, Bonnie," he said, smiling at the roll of her eyes. "I'm inviting you to a party."

"Another one?" she said. She'd be glad when Klaus wrapped up this thing with Marcel. At least then she wouldn't have to go to anymore of his parties. After so many, they were all starting to form one amorphous blob, and it wasn't very fun hanging out with a bunch of vampires who'd probably love to rip her head off. If Marcel's orders ever changed, they'd do that in a heartbeat. For now they pretended she wasn't even there.

"We have to celebrate Rebekah coming into town, don't we?" Marcel said. "What do you say, ladies? It'll be fun."

He knew she'd have to go. Klaus' orders.

"I'm always up for a party," Rebekah said. "We'll see you there."

* * *

**Two Months Ago**

Another night, another party, another expensive dress. It was the first time Bonnie had been invited to Marcel's castle of sorts, located in the center of the Quarter. In the gold glow of the lights everything was dim and warm looking. The room was also stifling, packed with vampires from end to end who laughed and drank and danced together. Some of them stopped to speak to her, questioning who she was and looking amused when she told them. The novelty of her being the only practicing witch in town had worn off to be replaced by her status as The Witch Who Slept With Marcel. That one seemed to be sticking.

She hadn't seen Marcel in awhile, and she hadn't seen him when she'd come in. The only contact she had with him was through text message. When he extended the invitation to this party (for an occasion Bonnie hadn't been filled in on) she'd known she'd be expected to go even if the night was going to be spent reminding Marcel of the main objective of a one-night stand. So she'd found a dress, found shoes, did her hair. It was incredible how easy she'd fallen into the routine.

"Bonnie!"

When she turned she saw Marcel coming toward her, grinning as he leaned against the bar. "How's it going?" he asked.

"Fine," she answered stiffly. "You?"

"Great," he said. "You haven't returned any of my texts."

Bonnie shrugged her shoulders and reached for her drink. "Sorry, but I figured you'd catch the hint. It's been a couple weeks though so I admit, I thought you'd catch it sooner. We're _not_ having sex again."

Marcel's smile widened. "Why not? I thought you enjoyed yourself."

"I did," Bonnie said. "It was nice."

"That's the best adjective you can come up with?" he said. "Nice? How about something a bit more powerful? Something that truly encompasses the experience? Mind-blowing? Breathtaking? Spectacular? How about _thrilling_?"

"You thought all those things? Thank you," she said. "That means a lot, but I think one of us enjoyed it _way_ more than the other."

"No need to downplay it, Bonnie," Marcel said casually. "I was there, remember? I heard _every_ appreciate sound and statement that you made, and there were plenty of them. Want me to give you a replay? I think I can convincingly imitate at least half of them."

Bonnie pressed her lips together to keep from smiling. "I'm fine, thank you."

"Or," Marcel said, "we can replay the whole thing. Upstairs. Together. It'll be fun, and you know it'll be fun. That's why you're making that face right now. You _want_ to, so why don't you?"

It would be fun. If Marcel shut up and put his mouth to other uses, it would certainly be fun. Maybe it would even top the first time.

"Because," Bonnie answered, "it was a one-night stand. You know how those work."

Marcel rolled his eyes. "Bonnie-"

"Are you trying to seduce me?" Bonnie asked. Maybe that was his plan all along. He already knew she found him attractive, attractive enough to sleep with, and she was here with Klaus. Marcel wasn't stupid, and like Klaus, he knew the value of a good witch.

"Am I seducing you?"

"You're annoying me."

Marcel laughed.

"I've got a good thing with Klaus," Bonnie said, crossing one leg over the other. "He gives me everything I need. Place to stay, clothes to wear, money to spend."

Marcel's fingertips ghosted across her wrist. "He doesn't give you _everything_ you need."

It was Bonnie's turn to laugh. "No one gives you everything you need," she said, once the laughter subsided. "But I _do _have a good thing going with him. Do you think I'm gonna throw it away for sex?"

"It was good sex," Marcel reminded her.

"It's not even love," Bonnie said, reaching for her drink.

"So you'd throw it away for love?"

Bonnie looked down at her drink and saw Jeremy's face in the amber hued liquid. It had been awhile since she'd thought of him, not since that night at the house with Marcel where she'd known for sure he'd disapprove. She wasn't supposed to be in New Orleans, having sex with a self-appointed king. She was supposed to be back in Mystic Falls with him. "No," she said.

Marcel made a clucking sound with his tongue. "When you change your mind about the sex," he said, "you know where I am." He gave the room a cursory once over and raised his arm when he saw someone he recognized, who Bonnie couldn't make out in the crowd of people. "I've got someone you should meet."

Bonnie sighed. "Do I have to?"

"You'll like her," Marcel said, extending a hand for a girl who was cutting through the mass of people to reach Marcel's side. "Bonnie, meet Lydia. Lydia, say hello to Bonnie"

Lydia's smile didn't falter as she extended her hand to Bonnie who shook it casually. "She works for Klaus," Marcel said, and for a moment Bonnie was confused about which of them he was talking about.

"Yeah, I've heard of you," Lydia said, before calling out for a drink. "I love your dress," she added.

"Thanks," Bonnie said. She didn't let her eyes linger on Lydia too long before she was back to looking at Marcel, blissfully unaware that the girl at his side was selling him out. She was a better person to do it than Bonnie had thought, if Marcel liked her this much.

"I've known Lydia for years," Marcel explained. "I sired her myself."

Even better.

"Really?" Bonnie said. "That's...nice."

She almost felt bad for him.

* * *

**Present Day**

Bonnie sat at the bar with her drink, listening to Rebekah and Marcel flirt behind her. Rebekah had warmed a bit more to him since they'd gotten there, though she hadn't completely abandoned her chilly attitude. Now it was just sprinkled with some smiles and laughs. It had been going on for awhile. If the two of them didn't retire to Marcel's room upstairs before the night was over, she'd be very surprised. Chances were they were both waiting to see if Klaus would make an appearance. Seeing his new enemy and sister headed upstairs together was sure to piss him off, but Klaus probably wouldn't come. They'd have sex either way.

When Rebekah flitted away to speak to Elijah on the other side of the room, Marcel leaned against the bar at Bonnie's side. "Having fun?" he asked.

Bonnie nodded her head slowly. This wasn't the best party he'd ever thrown. She'd have rather headed to Turbulence, but it was work. Klaus was going to depositing some money into her account soon. The least she could do was earn it. She doubted Marcel was going to make any big moves with Rebekah and Elijah around, but Bonnie's presence was required whenever Klaus wasn't going to be there no matter which of his siblings was in attendance.

"You?"

"Of course," he said. "It's a shame our friend couldn't come tonight. I'm sure he'd like to get out of the house."

Bonnie didn't dare say Tyler's name with Rebekah and Elijah so close. They were distracted enough that they probably wouldn't notice it, and the music was so loud there was a chance they couldn't hear it, but the risk was too great. "Yeah," she agreed.

Thierry approached, putting a hand on Marcel's shoulder and nodding to the door. Looking around, Klaus entered. The enraged flicker of Marcel's eyes only lasted a few seconds before he replaced it with a dazzling smile. "Klaus!" he exclaimed, leaving Bonnie's side to make his way toward him, Thierry following him. "You made it!"

Bonnie swiveled around on her stool to face them completely, watching them embrace, each of them wearing similar looks of false gentility. Marcel called for someone to pour Klaus a drink, and once it was in his hand, Klaus bent his steps Bonnie's way.

"I see you're enjoying yourself," he said, claiming the spot occupied by Marcel only moments ago. He downed his drink in one gulp.

"Is it that obvious?" Bonnie said. "I'm surprised you came."

"I'm trying something new," he said. "If you'd like to leave, you may. I can work this room on my own."

Bonnie arched an eyebrow. "That's not like you. Worried Rebekah may switch sides?"

Klaus didn't answer, and Bonnie knew she was right. As expected Marcel was back at Rebekah's side now, an arm fixed around her waist while he tried to convince her to do karaoke with him. On the other side of the room cake was being brought out, already cut into neat slices. Marcel really knew how to go all out on short notice.

"Should I invite Rebekah into my apartment?" Bonnie asked.

"Not yet," Klaus said, tilting his head to the side. "I need more time."

"Fine by me," Bonnie said, sliding off her barstool. "I'm leaving."

"Are you going home?"

"I think I'm gonna stop by the club first," Bonnie lied. "Don't want this dress to go to waste."

"No, we don't," Klaus agreed, his gaze sliding up and down the line of her dress. When he found her eyes again, he smiled. "Have fun."

* * *

"Aren't you supposed to be at the party?" Tyler asked when he opened the door to find Bonnie at the door, holding a foil wrapped slice of cake in hand. He'd been laying down, if not sleeping, shirtless again with tousled hair.

"It was a bad party," Bonnie said, stepping past him, "and Klaus is there so I don't need to be. I brought you cake." She shoved the cake toward him and continued into the house, shrugging out of her jacket to toss it onto the chair.

"Thanks," Tyler said, looking suspiciously at the aluminum blob.

"It's good," Bonnie said, sitting down. "Chocolate."

Tyler unwrapped it as he sat down across from her, tearing pieces of it apart with his fingers. He popped a bite into his mouth and chewed quietly. "Good," he muttered.

"Told you," Bonnie said, folding her hands in her lap and leaning back against the sofa.

"How are you here right now?" Tyler asked. "Isn't party attendance part of your contract with Klaus?"

"It is," Bonnie said, "but he's at the party so I don't need to be. Marcel's going to sleep with Rebekah so Klaus is a little testy. So, what's new? Any more mysterious sounds from the attic?"

"Yes," Tyler said. "And...Marcel wants to be my mentor."

Bonnie blinked. "That's interesting."

"That's what I thought."

"There are worse people to be your mentor," she said. "Like Klaus." Granted, Marcel wouldn't be her first choice either, but she'd take him over him Klaus who more likely to get jealous and irritated about his students going on to do things with his lessons and try to take it from them.

Tyler nodded his agreement. "Yeah, I know. I just...it seems weird."

"Yeah, but you should take advantage while you can."

"While I can?"

"Marcel's not gonna win this," she said. "He can't. He'll put up a good fight, but it won't be enough."

"You're sure about that?" Tyler asked, eyebrows raised. "Marcel seems pretty confident."

Confident was Marcel's default setting. He wasn't going to be anything less, especially not in front of someone else. If there was any doubt left in Marcel, he wasn't about to show it to anyone who could use it against him. It was a good strategy, if strategy was what it was.

"That's just how he is," Bonnie said. "Self-doubt isn't really his style, but if you're gonna stay here you should know when you need to get out. When things go south, you'll need to run. Klaus isn't going to let Marcel live so there won't be anyone to protect you, and Klaus _will _find you. There's only so much I'll be able to do for you."

Tyler was quiet as he picked at his cake. He was thinking, and Bonnie thought about trying to soften the blow a little bit. It wasn't like she'd hand him over to Klaus when the time came. Maybe she'd be able to give him some advance warning? Get him out of the city before Klaus got around to collecting his spoils? The house may be first on Klaus' list. He knew what it meant to Marcel. If Klaus didn't claim it for himself, he'd burn it to the ground.

"What if things start going south for Klaus?" Tyler questioned. "What's Marcel going to do to you?"

Bonnie shrugged. "Nothing."

"Nothing?"

"Nothing," she repeated.

"Because he likes you?"

Bonnie laughed. "No," she said. "Marcel doesn't _like_ me." Maybe he did at one point. At the very least he'd found her interesting (still did) and he'd liked having sex with her (probably still did), but he didn't like her. She wasn't one of his family members, one of those people he'd handpicked to call his own, and after what had happened Marcel wasn't going to be making her an honorary Daywalker either. "He knows power when he sees it. I'm a powerful piece on a board of powerful pieces, and he'd rather I was on his side than not. But he doesn't like me."

"He said you guys hooked up," Tyler said, popping the last bit of cake into his mouth, looking directly at her.

Bonnie pointed her eyes to the ceiling. She'd think Marcel would keep that quiet as it had become a less than stellar subject with his people. With them he liked to pretend it hadn't happened, but Tyler wasn't one of them, not yet, and he didn't have the baggage that made it such a point of contention with the others. More likely than not Marcel thought it would add a nice shock factor to things with Tyler. Or maybe he just wanted to brag.

"Been waiting awhile to ask that?"

"I figure now's as good a time as any," Tyler said, "since you're being so nice."

"We did," she admitted. "Just once."

"And you're sure he doesn't like you?"

"You of all people know about sex without feelings or commitment or anything else," Bonnie said, smiling. "I can't even list all the girls you've slept with so you can't judge me."

"I'm not," he said, grinning down at his hands. "You were just never the type."

"That was then," Bonnie said, shrugging her shoulders dismissively.

"Anyway," Tyler said. "Why's Marcel not going to do anything to you?"

"If it looks like Klaus is going to lose - which he won't - Marcel's not going to do anything to me because I'm not going to let him," she said. "I'll leave, and they both know I will. I'm not here to martyr myself for Klaus. When I decided to go to him for help, it was because he was the best choice. He can give me everything that I need, and if that ever changes, I'll move on. You've got Marcel right now, but if that changes, you need to be ready to go, too."

"You're sure Klaus is gonna win?"

Bonnie nodded. "There's no way he can lose."

"Do you want him to win?" Tyler asked. "I mean, do you think he deserves it?"

"Of course he doesn't deserve it," Bonnie said. "That doesn't mean he won't get it. You didn't deserve to be run out of town, but it still happened." She didn't deserve to die alone beneath her school, but that happened, too. "Do you think Klaus deserved to get a kid? He's still gonna have one. Klaus is the stronger of the two of them, and that's all that matters."

"I think there's a chance," Tyler said. "For Marcel, I mean."

Bonnie shrugged. "Maybe."

"I want him to win," he said earnestly, folding his arms.

"Don't do that," she said, surprised at how quickly she spoke.

"Do what?"

"Get invested," Bonnie said. "If you want him to win then you'll do whatever you can to make that happen. You'll walk through fire to make that happen. You'll _die_ to make that happen. Don't do that. It's not our fight so we don't have to win it. We just have to survive it."

"He could be me," Tyler said. "I could be him. If I were him, I'd want-"

"It's not you," she said. "It's him. You're Tyler, he's Marcel. If he loses, you don't have to lose with him."

"But if he wins, I'll win, too," Tyler said. "If Klaus wins, you'll win, right? If Marcel wins, I get Klaus off my back for good. I can go home if I want. If Klaus wins, you get to keep your apartment and your money. We win if they win."

Yeah, if Klaus won Bonnie would be a permanent fixture in New Orleans, at least for the foreseeable future. She'd keep a firm hold on her Good Thing if Klaus wrestled the city away from Marcel. "Well, one of us is going to lose," she pointed out.

Tyler shrugged. "It's not gonna be me."

Bonnie laughed. "Okay, Tyler. We'll see."


	15. Moving Forward

Moving Forward

It was early in the afternoon when Tyler decided to check his messages. The house was as quiet as it had ever been, with no sounds from the attic or anywhere else. Duke and Ronan had come and gone to drag Tyler through more combat exercises. Today he'd managed to throw Ronan a couple of times, and he's almost looked proud as he'd dragged himself to his feet. Now they were gone and the air conditioner hummed persistently, but Tyler barely heard it. He rolled to the side of the bed to reach beneath, fingers gliding against the floor to brush against his bag. He yanked it out and did a quick search for his phone. When he found it, he dialed his voicemail and fell back onto the pillows, exhaling up at the ceiling.

_One unheard message sent Tuesday, August 20_ _at 6:12 PM_.

"Hi," Caroline said. "It's me."

"Yeah, I know," Tyler said. It wasn't like he was getting loads of calls from other people.

"So..." Her voice trailed off. There was something wrong, something heavy in her voice. "So," she repeated, "something happened. I'm okay," she added quickly, "I'm fine. It's nothing like that. I just..." She took in a long breath. "Someone asked me out," she said, even faster. "On a date. I've thought about it a lot, and I've decided to go."

Caroline was quiet for a moment, like she was leaving him some time to process this information.

Finally she said, "It's not like I don't miss you," she said. "I do. It's just...I haven't heard from you since prom, and we don't know if you'll ever be able to come back here and be safe. And I don't want to wait around forever. I can't do that. I know you'd be here if you could, but you can't right now, and until you can there's no point in..." She sighed heavily. "I'm just trying to be...normal. Everything's going so well, and I'm finally feeling more like my old self after Bonnie, and...I just want to try to be...I don't know. I'm sorry."

_End of message_.

Tyler replayed the message one last time. When it was done, he pressed two. Caroline's name flashed across the screen with a highlighted call button beneath it. If he pressed it, he could leave her a message of his own, even talk to her directly. He could tell her not to go, and when she asked why she shouldn't try to do something else with her life with him gone he could tell her it was because he was in New Orleans being mentored by the city's king.

But not really.

He could tell her he'd be back soon. Or someday. It wasn't permanent no matter how permanent it felt. He listened to all her messages, wanted to call her and have a real conversation every time he heard another one. They weren't _broken up_. They were still Tyler and Caroline, Caroline and Tyler, even if they weren't. When he went back, they still would be. But not if she was with someone else.

Tyler listened to the message again.

He wanted to know everything about this guy. Who he was, what he looked like, how they'd met, where he was taking her, when it was happening. Maybe it had already happened. Maybe she'd had a good time, a really _great_ time even. Maybe they were planning to go on a second date. Maybe this guy had kissed her goodnight, and maybe Caroline had kissed him back.

Maybe she really liked him.

Tyler turned off his phone and stuffed it into his bag and returned it to its spot underneath the bed.

* * *

When Marcel found him, it was dark out and Tyler was in the living room with a bottle of vodka in his lap, staring at the floor and hearing Caroline's words again. It was a strange feeling that had settled in his gut, a cross between disappointment and disbelief. He was so wrapped up in it, he didn't even realize Marcel was there until he spoke.

"What's wrong with you?" he asked, dropping down into the chair across from Tyler.

"Caroline's going on a date," Tyler said, raising the bottle to his mouth again. Marcel watched him take a swig, nose scrunched up.

Tyler didn't know what he'd expected. He wasn't there with her so of course she'd want to move on. She was going to Whitmore now, where there was a new pool of people. Sure lots of them were in-state, and more than a few people from their class had probably ended up there, too, but there were lots of new faces. New guys. Of course Caroline had been asked out, and of course she was going.

It wasn't like Tyler was giving her a reason not to.

"I can see that's upset you," Marcel said. "So what do you want to do?"

"I want to drink," Tyler said.

"Well, you're doing that already. I mean what do you want to _do_? Do you want to go home? Make sure she knows you're not over?"

Tyler imagined it. Him turning up at Whitmore, heading to Caroline's dorm and knocking on her door, there in the flesh to tell her _not _to go out with this mystery guy. Then what? He'd turn around and head back to New Orleans? She'd want him to stay, but he wouldn't be able to.

With a sigh he leaned down to set the bottle on the floor. "Yes and no," he answered."If I go back then I'll just end up running again. I'll always be looking over my shoulder to see if Klaus is there, ready to take my head off."

"Probably," Marcel agreed.

"Would you even let me go?" Tyler asked.

Marcel leaned back and inhaled. "Yeah."

"You won't kill me?"

Marcel grinned. "I think we're past that, aren't we? I'd let you go," he said, "if you really wanted to go. But I don't think you want to."

"I miss her," Tyler said.

"But do you want to go back?"

"I can't," Tyler said. "There's Klaus. And I won't get to see you beat him." He wanted to be there when this all ended, when Marcel got to look at his city and know it was going to be his forever, when Klaus was out of the picture, however that would happen. Even if he got back to Mystic Falls and Klaus didn't find out and come after him, Marcel would still be here, bringing him down, and Tyler wouldn't get to see it. After everything, he deserved to see it.

"You won't," Marcel said.

But Marcel could lose this whole thing, like Bonnie said. Tyler had a chance to leave if Marcel would let him. He and Caroline could work something out, figure out a way to hide him. Klaus would probably be too wrapped up in stealing New Orleans from Marcel to be overly concerned with what was going in Mystic Falls, especially if Rebekah wasn't there anymore to attract his attention. If Tyler he stayed here, he may only watch Marcel lose everything - including his life. What was the point in that?

There was a chance Tyler could go home.

"I knew exactly what I wanted to do yesterday," he said, running his fingers through his hair. Stay here, learn from Marcel, beat Klaus. Now everything had changed. "If I don't go back me and Caroline may be done. For good."

"It's one date," Marcel said. "She's not getting married."

"But what if it's a good date? And then there's another one? And another one? Then what?"

The only thing he had left in Mystic Falls was Caroline, and if he didn't have her anymore, then he'd never have any reason to go back. He'd be separate from it forever, and it would be a relatively small chapter in the book of his eternal life. Tyler didn't think he was ready for Mystic Falls to mean nothing just yet. And he wasn't ready to mean nothing to Caroline.

Marcel shrugged. "It's your decision," he said. "If you want to go home, I'll get you home. You'll be on your own once you're there, but I can get you there."

Tyler imagined it. Home would be transitioning into autumn soon. It had been his favorite season once, when he was younger. If he went back he could catch it right as it was nearing that time. He could watch the leaves change color, watch as they floated from branches onto the ground to be knocked around by a brisk, autumn wind.

He could do it. Marcel would let him.

But...

"I want to be here," Tyler said, "and I want to be part of it. I want you to teach me like you said, and I want you to beat him."

Marcel shrugged. "So stay," he said simply. "You'll be okay. You've survived this long without her. You can go longer. If it's meant to be she'll still be there when you get back." He patted Tyler's should awkwardly. "It's not forever, alright? Look, it's up to you. Think on it. Let me know."

The doorbell rang.

Marcel arched an eyebrow. Tyler opened his mouth to ask who that could be, but Marcel held up a hand. Slowly he put a finger to his lips then pointed to the stairs. "Stay quiet," he mouthed.

Confused, Tyler nodded and raced up the stairs where he lingered at the landing to listen.

The doorbell rang again, and Marcel opened the door. "Klaus," he said stiffly, his tone lacking his usual charm. "What a surprise."

* * *

**Two Months Ago**

Tyler stood alongside the looping line. The people lined up stood in pairs, in threes, in fours. None of them stood alone like he did. He probably looked ridiculous, standing here and waiting for someone. Anyone looking at him probably suspected that he'd been stood up.

Lydia was taking so long to get there that Tyler was beginning to think it, too.

_Meet me there at nine_, she'd said. She'd definitely said nine, named a newish club called Turbulence where she'd promised they'd have a great time and they'd catch up after all the time they'd missed. After being AWOL for this long, Lydia had sworn to make it up to him, but the club scene was Lydia's thing, not Tyler's so he didn't know if this was a good way for her to put in her penance or not. Either way, he'd take it. It wasn't like his social calendar was overflowing at the moment. If Lydia wanted to hang out in a club tonight, he'd do it, even if it wasn't his idea of a great time.

Tyler couldn't really figure out what his idea of a good time was anymore. he tried to figure it out while he waited, watching the line progress in front of him. By nine-thirty he hadn't come up with an answer, and Lydia wasn't there. The thought of hanging out on the sidewalk outside the club was worse than the thought of actually being it so he was prepared to go. His place wasn't too far from here so it would be an okay walk, and it was nice out, too. The next time he saw Lydia, when she inevitably turned up to offer her sincerest apologies for standing him up, he'd tell her all about it.

"Tyler!"

He heard her coming up from behind him dressed in a short black dress and tall heels, her hair pulled up into a swinging ponytail. "I'm sorry," she said as she soon as she reached him. "Takes time to look this good, you know." She flashed a smile and took his hand to drag him to the back of the line. "I'll pay your cover charge."

Tyler hadn't been planning on paying at all. In fact he'd been planning on sneaking in through a door off to the side and compelling anyone who saw him. Apparently Lydia wanted to play Normal Person for the night.

"Thanks," Tyler said, letting Lydia keep hold of his arm. "So, how are things?" She hadn't been in the mood to explain her absence before, but since they were stuck in this line, now was the perfect time.

"Fine," she answered. "I'm just...dealing with stuff."

"Can I help?"

"No," she said. "It's nothing big. Just family stuff."

"I didn't know you had any family here."

"Yeah," she said, nodding her head. "Just drama. It'll pass soon. Enough about me, what about you? Do anything interesting while I was on hiatus?"

"No," Tyler said.

Lydia clucked her tongue. "Further proof that your life revolves around me."

He laughed. "Yeah, looks like it."

Once Lydia paid for both of them, she pulled him into the humid darkness of the club where they both moved in and out of neon flashes of light. "I'll get us drinks," Lydia said before breaking away. When she found him again, she passed him a bottle of beer.

"It's a nice place, huh?" she said as he twisted off the cap.

"Sure," Tyler agreed.

Lydia rolled her eyes. "Come on. Try to have a good time. I know your life sucks, but try to pretend it doesn't."

"Easier said than done."

Lydia gulped down her drink within seconds and left it on a table. She waited politely for him to finish his beer.

"Go dance," Tyler sighed. "I'll wait."

"You sure?"

Tyler nodded and Lydia floated away without another word. Tyler found an empty table where he sat to nurse his beer. He picked Lydia out from the crowd easily, dancing with a tall, dark-skinned girl. She was already having a good time. That was Lydia, slipping in and out of contentment with ease.

Tyler finished off his beer but didn't join her on the floor. Eventually she realized it was taking him too long to finish that one bottle and came back over, pursing her lips at him in annoyance. "So you're just going to sit here all night?" she said, a hand on her hip.

"This is fun to me," he said. "I like sitting down and drinking."

Lydia rolled her eyes. "Do you want to go somewhere else? We can. There are bars around here. We can sit and drink with other people who are sitting and drinking. Or do you want to go feed? We can do that, too. Whatever you want really."

Tyler shook his head, but he smiled. "It's fine. _Really_. Go back out there, I'm okay."

Lydia didn't look convinced, but Tyler wasn't going to budge. In forty-five minutes he'd dance a little bit. But only in forty-five minutes. By then he'd have ingested another couple of beers, and he wouldn't care. "I'll get us another round," she said finally, turning around to push through the crowd toward the glowing bar.

She came back a few seconds later without a drink for either of them. Tyler looked down at her empty hands and raised his eyebrows. "So what's the deal?" he asked.

Lydia made an apologetic face. "I've gotta go."

"What?"

"I'm _really_ sorry. Something's come up, and I've gotta leave. Like right now. Are you gonna stay?"

Tyler glanced around the room, at the gyrating bodies tinted bright blue on the dance floor. His answer was obvious, and they both knew it. "No," he sighed. "I'll walk home."

"Let me get you a cab," Lydia said quickly. "I'll make it up to you, I promise."

"Yeah, I'm sure," he said letting Lydia lead him out of the club. Out on the street the line was gone and there were a couple of cabs parked alongside, waiting for too-intoxicated patrons to come looking for a ride.

"Here," Lydia said, pressing cash into palm. "I'll see you around, okay?"

Tyler nodded and let Lydia hug him goodbye. She waited until he got into the cab, waving at him through the window before he gave the driver his address. The cab pulled away from the curb. It was turning the corner when Tyler looked back and saw Lydia going back into the club.

* * *

**Present Day**

"I thought I'd find you here. You weren't at your place in the Quarter. We need to talk," Klaus said, with an equally dry tone. He stepped into the house, and Tyler heard his feet on the floor, steps heavy. He was frozen at the top of the stairs, too afraid to move in case he made any noise. It would be like a foghorn to Klaus' ears. Part of him wanted to disappear into his bedroom and close the door, put a solid something in between him and Klaus' voice. The other part wanted to go downstairs and take Klaus apart. He was the reason he was here in the first place, the reason why Caroline was back home and going on a date with some guy.

"Are we alone?" Klaus questioned after Marcel closed the door.

"We are."

"Our discussion the other night-" Klaus began.

"Not much of a discussion," Marcel interrupted. "Just you demanding that I hand _my_ city over to you with no argument and no hesitation. You've got some real nerve. Balls of steel. Did you think it'd go over better, be more receptive, if you threatened me in person?"

Klaus laughed quietly. "You and I both know how this is going to end. You've been a lot of things over the years, Marcel, but stupid has never been one of them. If you value your life-"

"If you value yours," Marcel countered, "you'll get out of my house right now."

"I could rip you to pieces right here," Klaus reminded him.

"You could try," Marcel said. How Marcel thought that would work was a mystery. Klaus _could_ rip him limb from limb if he wanted. It would barely amount to a workout. If Marcel out of the way was what Klaus wanted, he had an easy way to make it happen. "Go on," he said. "_Try_. I want you to." Tyler could almost hear Marcel smiling. "I'm not that guy you _freed_," he said. "I'm a king, and you just said that I'm not stupid. So tell me, Klaus. Do you think I'd _really_ be fighting this fight if I didn't think I could win? So try. Do your worst. I'll still be here when you're through."

Tyler inclined his head toward the stairs, listening. Klaus was quiet, probably weighing the situation. Marcel was cocky, but if he thought he could take Klaus, there had to be a better reason than pride. One bite would damn Marcel, and Klaus probably wouldn't even get his hands dirty in the process. If Marcel thought he could work around that, there had to be a reason.

Or maybe it was just a bluff. It had slowed Klaus down some, maybe out of curiosity. If Marcel was lying, it was a good lie.

Tyler made a mental note to ask Marcel about that later, assuming Klaus didn't kill him and then discover Tyler there and kill him, too.

More footsteps. Then liquid being poured into a glass. Klaus spoke. "Look at you now," he said. He was further away, at the bar. "A king. Superb in your arrogance."

"That's...interesting coming from you," Marcel said, still near the door.

"We were friends once," Klaus said.

"We still would be, if you weren't who you are."

Klaus didn't say anything. "I've made you a generous offer," he said finally, after long minutes had passed. "It's one I wouldn't extend to anyone else."

"I'm honored," Marcel said sarcastically. "So honored that I'm going to have to refuse your offer. _Again_. Now either come at me or get out. Either way, this conversation's over."

"It is _far_ from over!"

Glass shattered, and Tyler lurched for the stairs but couldn't get past the first one. Something trapped him there at the top of the stairs, pushing against it in vain. All was silent downstairs like Marcel and Klaus were simply thinking things over as he pressed his hand against the barrier, feeling it decompress under the pressure of his fingers. He'd felt that before.

When he spun around, Bonnie was standing in the doorway to his room, hair hanging loose around her face and mouth set into an annoyed line. "And what exactly are you about to do?" she asked, not bothering to lower her voice in case Marcel or Klaus heard. "It's sound proof, remember?" Bonnie said, stepping forward to press her hand to the barrier which rippled beneath her fingers. "They can't hear us."

"What the hell are you doing here?" Tyler demanded. "How'd you get in?"

"I'm a witch, Tyler," she reminded him. "Come on," she said, nodding back to his room, "we're leaving."

"I can't," he said. "Marcel-"

"Will be fine," Bonnie finished. He could practically hear her mental addition of, _You wouldn't be of much use anyway. _"You need to get out. It's not safe with Klaus here. Believe me, Marcel wants that, too." She reached for Tyler's hand and pulled him toward his bedroom. "Out the window," she said, with a nod of her head. "I'll meet you down there."

It was a steep drop down to the courtyard below, but Tyler made it with ease. He hit the ground smoothly, and when he straightened up Bonnie was standing in front of him, startling him.

"Sorry," she said, when he jumped. "Let's go." She led him out of the courtyard and down the street. "You can't go back for awhile, not while Klaus is there."

"So what am I supposed to do?" Tyler asked, trailing behind her.

"Stick with me," Bonnie said, glancing at him over her shoulder. She smiled. "We'll hang out."

* * *

**Thanks for reading and reviewing!**


	16. On the Town

On the Town

"You'll be fine with me," Bonnie said as she led Tyler down the street. "Don't worry." They reached the streetcar stop where she fished out change for both of them. "Klaus could stand right next to you right now, and he wouldn't even know you were there."

"Really?" Tyler said.

Bonnie could see the streetcar coming down the tracks. "Really," she confirmed.

"So where are we going?" Tyler asked as they boarded. She sat down and he followed suit, squeezing in next to her. She couldn't remember the last time someone had sat down next to her. Well, Marcel had, but he didn't count because he annoyed her. Usually she cast an illusion to make the seat seem taken, even on days when the streetcar was packed with people. Very rarely did she ever share a seat, but Tyler didn't think twice about sliding in next to her, taking up a substantial amount of space with his broad shoulders and big arms.

"The aquarium," Bonnie answered, pressing herself as close to the window as she could.

"It's still open?"

"No."

But they were a witch and a hybrid so there was really no reason they should adhere to rules like that.

Tyler looked skeptical when they got off at their stop, and she led him toward the aquarium. In the night it was only lit up by a few exterior lights casting a white glow onto the pale walls. She led him around to a side exit and spelled her way through.

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" he asked as she led him inside.

Bonnie rolled her eyes. "There are only a few people who walk around every once in awhile, and they won't be able to see us or hear us anyway."

"Why not?"

"Because I'm a witch, Tyler," she said. "Just try to relax."

They reached a glass corridor, steeped in one of the tanks with water on both sides and overhead. It was darker than it would be in the daytime, but the light from the tanks provided enough for them to see. It was full of giant, silvery fish with glittering scales. They swam without a care in the world, unaware that the two people staring at them were currently breaking and entering.

Tyler moved to the other side. "I've never been to an aquarium before," he said.

"I hadn't either," Bonnie said. "Until I came here." It had been one of her first stops once she moved into the sightseeing part of her time here, and once she established that she didn't like the crowds or the expensive entry fee, she decided she'd come after hours when she could enjoy it on her own.

"Why do you like it here?" Tyler asked, walking ahead. Bonnie followed after him.

"It's nice," she said.

"Well, don't be too specific," he said, glancing over his shoulder.

Bonnie pursed her lips in annoyance. "I like all the water," she said. "I like blue." She sped up to walk past him. "Let's find the sharks. They're better."

When they found them, they sat themselves down on the risers in front of the tank. It went from floor-to-ceiling with various fish, turtles and an occasional shark swimming lazily inside. They sat in the dark with only the bluish light from the tank to illuminate the space. This was how she liked it. They were quiet for a long time before Tyler, sitting near her feet, straightened up. "I hear someone coming."

"That's great," Bonnie said dully. "I told you it's fine. See?" She nodded to the door where a dark haired woman was walking through, listening to her MP3 player and nodding her head along. She paused for a moment to peer through the tank before she started walking again, her gaze sliding over them without pause.

"Oh," Tyler said, once the woman was gone. He turned back to the tank and waited a few minutes before speaking again. "Do you think Marcel's okay?"

"Yep," Bonnie said. If Klaus had killed him, she would have gotten a call by now telling her all about it, inviting her over for a congratulatory drink and also to dispose of the body and prepare for a foolish retaliation from Marcel's people. Her phone remained silent so Marcel was still very much alive.

Tyler sighed. "Caroline's going on a date."

She looked at him. The back of his head really since he seemed to be refusing to look directly at her. "Sorry," she said.

"I might go back."

That surprised her. "Yesterday-"

"I know," Tyler said. "But if I don't go..."

"Yeah, I get it," she said. "So what are you thinking?"

"I haven't decided yet," he said. Finally he turned around. "If I do go back, I won't tell anyone about you. I'll keep that promise."

She shrugged and turned her gaze back to the tank. A turtle was moving past, its fins cutting lazily through the water. "I wasn't worried."

"What would you do?" Tyler asked. He was still looking at her. "If you were me? Would you go back?"

"No," Bonnie answered. "I wouldn't go back for anything."

Tyler didn't look as put off by her answer as she expected him to be. Maybe he was getting used to this new Bonnie. "But if you were me," he said. "Would you go back?"

One of the sharks, the smallest of the group, swam near the top of the tank before making a sharp turn and heading back in the opposite direction. "If I were you," she said, after a long time, "I wouldn't go back."

"Why not?"

The same reason she wouldn't go back. There was no one there for her, not anymore. She was better off here.

"Do you think anyone back there cared about you - cared what would happen to you - except for Caroline?" she asked.

"Yeah," Tyler said. Fast.

Bonnie blinked. "Who? Besides your mom. Who?"

He opened his mouth to answer, and she actually thought he would. She didn't know what name he'd say. Maybe Jeremy's, maybe Matt's. But he hadn't spent that much time with them since...everything.

Tyler still hadn't answered.

"Come on," Bonnie said, climbing down the risers. "I'm thirsty."

* * *

**Two Months Ago**

"You didn't see who was with her?" Klaus asked.

"No," Bonnie said. The bathroom was currently empty, after she'd put it into the head of the two girls giggling that they could do that elsewhere. "But she was in a hurry to get them out of here so it was someone she didn't want me to see."

Bonnie had been sitting at the bar with a margarita when Lydia appeared. It had taken Bonnie a moment to notice her, but once she did she raised her hand in a wave. Lydia had returned it with a smile too stiff to be genuine then she'd bolted in the other direction. It had taken some maneuvering to see what Lydia was hurrying off to, and even then Bonnie had only caught a glimpse of her heading toward the exit alongside a taller, distinctly male figure. She hadn't seen his face.

Klaus made a humming sound. "Is she still there?"

"Yeah, I saw her come back in," Bonnie said. "She might be looking for me. I don't know. What do you want me to do?"

"Nothing yet," he answered.

"She's up to something."

"I trust your assessment," Klaus said, "but I see no reason to get into a fuss just yet. Stay there, see what she does. If-"

The bathroom door swung open, and Lydia entered. "I've been looking for you," she said, meeting Bonnie's gaze in the mirror.

"Have you?" Bonnie said. "What for?" She turned around to face her, keeping her phone pressed to her ear. Chances were Lydia already knew who was on the phone with her, as Bonnie was sure she'd been eavesdropping. "Klaus?"

"Yes, love?"

She fought the urge to roll her eyes. "I'll call you back." She didn't wait for his answer before ending the call and folding her fingers around the phone. "So," she said. "What's up?"

"I wanted to buy you a drink," Lydia said, stepping past Bonnie to check out her reflection in the mirror. She toyed with her curls and took a tube of lipgloss from her bag to reapply to her lips, cutting her eye to Bonnie in the mirror. "I love your dress."

"Thanks," Bonnie said, leaning against the counter. "It was on sale. I like yours, too."

"I stole it," Lydia said, screwing the top back on her lipgloss. "Compulsion," she added.

Bonnie smiled tightly. "So," she said. "Here alone?"

Lydia didn't miss a beat, smiling demurely. "I don't plan on leaving that way though. You?"

"Same."

Lydia's smile widened. "How about that drink then?"

"Sure," Bonnie said. "Give me a minute?"

"Meet you at the bar."

Lydia glided from the room, and Bonnie watched the door swing shut behind her. She considered calling Klaus back, but she didn't have anything to say really. If Lydia was doing something she didn't want Bonnie, and therefore Klaus, to know about she wasn't about to spill it. Whoever it was she'd been with, he was a big enough deal that Lydia didn't want him getting anywhere near Klaus. And she could try to get that information by force if need be.

Bonnie started a text to Klaus. _I'll see what I can find out_, she typed. She pressed the SEND button just as she heard the metallic whine of the door, looking up into the mirror just in time to catch a blur of chocolate hued curls coming toward her followed by fangs piercing her neck. She screamed and was sure it was drowned out by the music outside. Her attempts to pull away were stopped by Lydia's strong hands, holding her in place.

The pain was blinding and magnificent. It had been awhile since she'd felt fangs in her throat. She couldn't say she'd missed the sensation. Gritting her teeth, Bonnie steeled herself against it, pushed the pain out of her mind to focus on a spell instead. The fangs were gone, the hands released her, and Bonnie stumbled toward the sinks to grip the edge and hold herself upright as Lydia coughed blood onto the floor behind her. With a grim smile, Bonnie dropped her gaze to her neck, pushing her hair out of the way to see.

She watched the ragged bite mark heal itself, leaving only shining blood in its wake.

If she was in a formal gown, it would be prom all over again.

Bonnie turned back to Lydia, looking at her with wide eyes, part furious part terrified. She stood as if she was paralyzed, trembling slightly. With a flick of her wrist Bonnie broke her neck and watched her fall in a heap onto the floor before reaching for her phone to call Klaus.

"Yes, love?"

"Lydia just tried to kill me."

Klaus was silent for a moment, processing. "I assume you're alright," he said.

"Yeah," she said. "What do you want me to do?"

"I'm curious," Klaus said, "about what _you_ want to do."

"I want to kill her," Bonnie replied. It was a roiling, heated sensation in her chest that electrified every part of her, made her magic spark and reach out with murderous intent. The place where Lydia had bitten her (she'd gotten a good one in, too) still tingled, the pain replaced by magic and healing though Bonnie still felt the remnants of the assault. The last time someone had taken a bite out of her throat, she'd let them live. She didn't see any reason things should play out that way again.

Klaus laughed on the other end. "All in good time, love. Bring her to me."

* * *

**Present Day**

Bonnie bought their first round of drinks. And the one after that since Tyler lacked funds, and she had plenty. They'd tried playing pool but the tables were all occupied, which left them the dart board in the corner. Bonnie had never been a darts kind of a girl so she sat down and watched Tyler as he sent each pointed end straight into the center of the target.

"It's been forever since I've done this," he said, pulling the darts from the board and coming to lean against the table where she sat, drinking from her straw.

"Thrown darts?"

"Just hung out," Tyler corrected. "It was even before I left Mystic Falls."

Bonnie tried to think of the last time she'd had any recreational hang-out time. There was plenty of it here, though she suspected it didn't really count because all that hanging out was done by herself. Delving into her recollections of Mystic Falls wasn't an option. It would only depress her.

Tyler set down the darts and rolled them along the table with the tips of his fingers. "Can I ask you a question?"

"Sure."

"What happened?" he asked. "I mean, specifically. You said you died, but I don't...What's the story?"

Maybe it was because she'd had one too many drinks or maybe she just wanted to get it out of the way, if she and Tyler were really going ahead with this weird alliance they had going, but she inhaled and prepared to tell all.

Well, the abridged version. She told him how she'd died and instead of crossing over she ended up being brought back by Qetsiyah. She made it sound so simple like that. Dead then alive then in New Orleans with Klaus. Quick and easy. "If I'm dead then no one can ask - or demand - anything of me," she said. "So I'm here."

"With Klaus. Who doesn't ask or demand anything," Tyler said sarcastically.

"I make the rules with Klaus," Bonnie said. "He's a monster, but he knows where I draw the line, and he's fine with that. Which is more than I can say of...other people." She lifted her drink to her lips, bypassing the straw and gulping it down.

"They really miss you," Tyler said, "and if you were to tell them how you felt, I think they'd listen."

Bonnie said nothing.

"What about Jeremy?"

"What about him?" she said, trying not to fixate on the memory of Jeremy's brown eyes and goofy grin. It almost made her feel bad, how she didn't feel anything that she used to.

"Do you miss him? I mean I know you guys had broken up but...I don't know. Do you?"

"Not as much as you'd think," she answered. "I don't really miss anyone."

It was a strange feeling, this indifference she'd managed. Fond feelings had once existed, so strong she was willing to die for them, and now she couldn't remember what those felt like. Everyone back home was just a hazy memory, a notch on the board of Bonnie's life. They ran on a circuit she'd gotten off of a while ago.

Except for Tyler who had managed to get on the same one as her.

"Not your parents?"

"Never saw much of them anyway." She wondered what they were, what they were doing. Abby was probably off doing whatever it was she found so much more interesting than her own daughter, and Rudy was either sticking it out in Mystic Falls or he'd returned to his life of frequent flyer miles and rental cars. Whatever it was, they were probably getting on just fine without her. "Want another beer?"

Tyler looked like there was more he wanted to ask, but Bonnie was already making her way to the bar. When she came back with their drinks, he was sitting down in the seat opposite hers.

"So," she said, pushing his beer toward him, "you going back or not?"

"I don't know," Tyler said. "Me and Marcel talked about it. He said he'd get me home if I want."

"That's decent of him."

"I just don't know if I want to go," he said.

"I think you do know," Bonnie said. "You just don't want to say it. You think you'd be an asshole."

She remembered when Tyler hadn't cared about being an asshole.

He leaned forward. "Enlighten me."

"You can go back," Bonnie said. "There's nothing keeping you here. Marcel will let you leave, and Klaus is going to be here, not there. You'd be a little bit safer back in Mystic Falls, but you just don't want to go. You want to see Marcel win. You already know my opinion on the likelihood of that, but if it happens then you get a front row seat to Klaus' end. It's selfish because you know Caroline wants you back, and if she knew you had the chance to come back but didn't take it...? Why shouldn't she go on that date?"

Tyler blinked. "Very astute, Bonnie. You should take that on the road."

She smiled a little. "It's selfish, sure. But in the few months that I've been here, there's one thing that I've learned, and it's that being selfish gets you places. Look where it's gotten Klaus. Where it's gotten...everyone. Sacrifice gets you _nowhere_. It killed me. So if you want to stay you should. Just do whatever you want to do."

"I'd still be sacrificing my relationship."

Bonnie sighed heavily. She almost said something rude. Then she decided she should say it anyway. If she started sparing Tyler's feelings now who knew what that would escalate to. "What relationship? You're here, she's there. You don't speak, and she's going on a date. You don't have a relationship."

Tyler didn't look offended. He actually laughed a little. "Are you trying to get me to stay or get me to go?"

"I'm trying to get you to _decide_."

"I'm still in a relationship," he said. "Even if Caroline's not."

Well that was just pathetic.

"I'm mad at her," he went on. He shook his head slightly, turned his beer bottle in a circle. "Why isn't she in this anymore? We said we'd wait until we found a way, and I'm waiting so why isn't she?"

"I don't know."

"She could be kissing someone else right now."

"She could," Bonnie agreed.

"_I_ could be kissing someone else right now."

"You could."

Tyler scanned the room like he was looking for a potential partner. The girls next to them were too drunk to be promising candidates, and the rest of the patrons were middle-aged. Tyler's stare revolved back around to land on Bonnie, and he cocked his head to the side thoughtfully.

"No," she said.

"What?"

"We're not kissing."

"I wasn't-"

"You were," she said. "And first of all, it won't make you feel any better about Caroline. It'll probably make you feel worse."

Tyler raised an eyebrow. "Uncertain about your kissing ability?"

Bonnie let out a laugh. "I'm an excellent kisser," she said. "You're just mad at Caroline which brings me to my second point: I don't want to have anything to do with your already exhausting relationship crisis."

Tyler laughed a little as he took a swig from his bottle. He put it back down on the table and stared at it for awhile. "So does that mean you wouldn't kiss me back?"

She probably would. Why not? Mystic Falls was miles away, and no one in it mattered anymore. She wouldn't lose any sleep even if it went further than a kiss. For all intents and purposes, he wasn't Caroline's boyfriend anymore, and Bonnie wasn't convinced it would really change anything if he was. Her old self wouldn't have entertained the thought of kissing Tyler, but this one was almost curious. She'd heard enough stories about Tyler in school, from various girls he'd hooked up with and Caroline, too. It might be nice.

She wouldn't be finding out tonight.

"That's exactly what it means."

* * *

When they arrived back at the house, the windows were dark. Bonnie felt around and only came away with Marcel, wandering the house. "Klaus is gone," she said. "Marcel's inside, and he's in one piece."

"Good," Tyler said as he mounted the stairs. He reached the door but didn't go inside. Instead he spun back around to face her. "This was fun."

Bonnie nodded her agreement.

Tyler smiled as he came back down the stairs. "We're friends, right?" he said. "Officially?"

Bonnie rolled her eyes, but she smiled. "I guess."

"Are you sure?" Tyler said, arching an eyebrow. "You wanna sleep on it and get back to me tomorrow?"

"Shut up," Bonnie sighed, making him laugh. "We're friends. Until one of us leaves." Which may be him, a lot sooner than she'd expected.

"We'll burn that bridge when we come to it," he said. "I've got an answer to your question, too. The one about who cared what happened to me."

"Then let's hear it."

"You," he said, pointing a finger at her chest. "You put Klaus back in his body because he was gonna hurt me. So yeah. You cared." He was looking at her too intently for her to look back so she dropped her gaze to the ground instead. "When you died," he said. "Well, when I heard about it, I was really...you know."

Bonnie blinked, unsure of what she was supposed to say.

"So I'm glad you're not. Dead, I mean. And I'm glad you're here because I don't know what I'd be doing without you."

"You'd probably be fine," she said, folding her arms.

"You think?"

"Maybe."

Tyler smiled and stepped a little closer to her, pausing like he was waiting for her to take a step back. She didn't, and he leaned to press a kiss to her left cheek. "That's probably not up to par with the makeout you were imagining earlier, but it's still pretty nice if you ask me."

Bonnie laughed. "Whatever. Have you decided what you're gonna do?"

"I'm gonna stay. I want to see it through," he said. "Besides, if I go then who's gonna look out for you?"

"I can look out for myself."

"I know," Tyler said, nodding his head. "But it doesn't hurt to have a second pair of eyes, right?"

She opened her mouth to tell him she didn't need his eyes, but he raised his hand in a wave and said goodnight. She watched him go into the house, and once the door had closed behind him, she tilted her head up to the sky and exhaled up at the sparse arrangement of stars. 

As she looked back down, Bonnie saw a flicker of movement in the window. It was the highest one, directly facing where she stood on the path. The curtain, a pale white color, fluttered as if someone had just let it fall closed again.

It was the attic window.

Bonnie stared at it for a while, trying to see if it would happen again, but it never did. Finally, she turned and started walking home.

* * *

**Thanks for reading and reviewing!**


	17. What Bonnie Did

What Bonnie Did

"You're back," Marcel said when Tyler came through the front door, pushing it closed with his foot. Marcel walked leisurely down the stairs, pausing at the bottom to lean against the banister.

"I am," Tyler confirmed.

"Where'd you go?"

"Bonnie just took me around town a little," Tyler said. He peeked out the window to see if she'd left yet and saw her walking down the street. When she disappeared from sight, and Tyler turned back to Marcel.

"Yeah, I heard you guys out there," he said as he sat down on the bottom stair, resting his elbows on his knees. He looked...fine. Tyler didn't know what he'd expected him to look like. Maybe exhausted after his encounter with Klaus, far less cheery than he was. Considering how he'd been the last time he'd had a private conversation with Klaus, this was a vast improvement. "Drunk?" Marcel asked.

"Nah," Tyler said with a wave of his hand. "I just had a couple of beers. I'm fine."

"I heard you worked out your crisis," Marcel added. "Sticking around huh?"

"Yeah," Tyler said, joining Marcel on the step and stretching his legs out in front of him. "Me and Bonnie talked about it and-"

"She told you to stay?"

"She didn't _say_ that," Tyler said, "but...I think it was implied. Maybe." He tried to remember. "Sort of. I dunno. I'm staying, and she didn't seem upset about it."

Marcel smiled and nodded his head slowly. "That's good."

So he was still on that kick about Tyler convincing Bonnie to switch teams. Tyler rolled his eyes. Bonnie may be a lot of things, but she didn't seem at all tempted to help Marcel. She'd picked her side already, and she was certain it was the best side. If Marcel wanted her to join him he'd have to give her a reason. Tyler told him so.

"I've got plenty of reasons for her," Marcel said. "It's just a matter of making her understand."

"Then make her understand," he said. "Bonnie likes me. She's nice to me. Kind of."

Marcel snorted.

Tyler ignored him. "But she's with Klaus," he said. "That's not gonna change anytime soon."

Marcel furrowed his eyebrows. "We'll see." He swung his head in Tyler's direction and hitched an eyebrow. "Isn't a little early to be flirting with ex-girlfriend's ex-best friend?"

Tyler shrugged. "I'm single so I don't see the problem."

There was a time when he'd enjoyed that - flirting with pretty girls. It was all he used to do, and it usually ended in some kind of hookup. That was unlikely to happen with Bonnie, but still. He didn't see any reason why he shouldn't. Caroline was going on a date. Tyler may not have had that option, but he had others. Since he and Caroline had become Tyler-and-Caroline all of his flirtations had been reserved for her, and even if it was only Bonnie rolling her eyes and smiling wryly on the other end of them, it was nice.

"I don't either," Marcel assured him. "I'm just making an observation."

"Is this a violation of some kind of code?" Tyler asked. "I know you guys hooked up that one time, but I didn't think it was serious."

Marcel laughed heartily. "No," he said. "It wasn't. You're not violating any _codes_. You're free to do whatever you want with Bonnie."

"Good to know," Tyler said. "So, what happened with Klaus?"

Marcel shrugged his shoulders like it was all very insignificant. "He threw a tantrum and then he left. Nothing happened. We're still exactly where we left off."

Like usual Tyler got the feeling Marcel wasn't telling him everything. For all his talk about being Tyler's mentor, everything Klaus hadn't been to him, he still played it all close to the vest. Maybe he was like Klaus in that way, always feeling the need to keep a secret.

"When you guys were talking," Tyler said, "you acted like he couldn't hurt you. He could have killed you."

If Klaus had been in a worse mood Marcel may have been in pieces across this house, and Tyler wouldn't even have been able to return to help clean him up. He'd have to run immediately, and he'd be on his own again. And after all this time with Marcel and the house, the thought of going back out there and living on nothing, with no one all over again wasn't a good one. He didn't even know if he'd have Caroline's messages to keep him sane anymore.

Marcel smiled, the corner of his mouth slowly turning upward. "I am _truly _looking forward to the day when I get to share all my secrets with you."

"What's wrong with today?" Tyler asked. If Marcel was excited to share them, Tyler was excited to hear them."

"Not yet."

"Is one of those secrets the thing that's banging around up in the attic?"

With a hum Marcel pointed his gaze toward the ceiling and smiled. "That is by far my _favorite_ secret," he said with a nefarious wiggle of his eyebrows. "Don't worry about what's up there, Ty. It's there for your benefit. And mine. It's very...helpful."

"Helpful how?"

"Helpful however it can be. And we'll need all the help we can get. The witches are becoming...rebellious," Marcel said. "And Klaus is using it to his advantage."

"They're working with him?"

"Looks that way."

"So what are you going to do?"

"What are _we_ going to do?" Marcel corrected. "I'm working on it."

Tyler wished he could make a suggestion, but he doubted he'd be able to formulate a foolproof resolution. Marcel had said so himself. Witches made the world go 'round. If he was losing his hold on them and they were willingly allying themselves with Klaus, Tyler didn't know how he expected to win.

"Why don't you...let them go?" Tyler asked.

Marcel laughed and the sound seemed to fill the whole house. "Even if I did, it wouldn't change anything. They'd just be free to come after me and mine on their own. And I don't want to give anyone the satisfaction. Good ole' fashioned pride, you know?"

"Are there any of them who'd help you?" Tyler asked. "Any who actually like you?"

Marcel considered it. "Doubt it. I've slept with a few of them, but I don't think that's enough of an incentive."

"Probably not," Tyler deadpanned.

"There's something I can try," Marcel said, "but I don't know if I want to. If I do it, it'll turn this whole thing up _several_ notches."

"But it'll work?"

"Yes," he said certainly. "It'll take all the witches out of commission. It won't kill them," he added, when he saw Tyler's face, "but it'll take care of it."

Tyler thought about it. Klaus was already formidable, with or without witches, but with them the game would change dramatically. Marcel didn't have the firepower to go up against a city of rebelling witches _and_ Klaus. And Bonnie.

"Then you have to do it," Tyler said. "If you don't, what are your odds?"

"If I get Bonnie, pretty good," Marcel said which made Tyler roll his eyes.

"And if you don't get Bonnie?"

"Then they're pretty bad," he admitted, "but I'll get Bonnie."

"How do you know?"

Marcel grinned and pushed himself to his feet. "That's another secret." He clapped Tyler's shoulder and gave it a squeeze. "Get some rest."

* * *

The next night Bonnie turned up at the front door. It was drizzling outside, and she held an umbrella in hand. "We're going to dinner," she said. Without giving Tyler time to accept or refuse the invitation (if it could even be called an invitation) she was turning and walking down the steps, obviously expecting him to follow.

He did. When the rain fell harder, Bonnie opened up the umbrella, and Tyler offered to hold it. It was so small it didn't seem like it would cover them both so he kept it over her as much as he could but the rain didn't seem to touch him anyway, even when the wind picked up and blew the droplets sideways toward them.

"It's a charm," Bonnie said, tugging on his arm to guide him down a narrower, less busy lane where there was a tiny little restaurant that was quite literally a hole in the wall. And that's what it was called.

Inside it was cool and lit by various multicolored lights that hung from the ceiling. It was put together from mismatched furniture. The tables were all different colors and shapes and sizes and the chairs were the same. It was mostly empty inside except for a trio of girls near the back laughing loudly. Bonnie led Tyler to a table in the corner where she plopped down into a plush looking armchair, and Tyler perched on a stool.

"This is nice," he commented as a waitress with pink hair dropped menus down in front of them.

"It's not really," Bonnie said. "The food's decent, but there are better places. With better seats. And better lighting. But we won't be running into anyone we don't want to here."

"I heard the witches are rebelling," Tyler said casually, glancing over the soup list.

Bonnie didn't say anything as she lifted her eyes to his face. She blinked. "Are they?" she asked after a few seconds.

"I don't know," he said. "_Are they_?"

With an annoyed sigh, Bonnie dropped her menu back onto the table and leaned toward him. "I don't know," she said.

Tyler leaned forward, too. "Is Klaus working with witches?"

"He's working with me."

"You know what I mean."

Bonnie leaned back and shrugged, picking up her menu again. "Don't know, don't care. I think I'll try the Louisiana Scramble. Breakfast sounds good.."

And he knew that conversation was over.

* * *

They left the restaurant, Tyler feeling satisfied and full and the rain having stopped. He hadn't eaten out in a while. He was always trying to save up money when Lydia was around and since Marcel wouldn't let him leave the house, dining in restaurants was out of the question.

"Thanks for paying," Tyler said as Bonnie led him down the street. He realized she was taking him back toward the aquarium.

"You'll get the next one," Bonnie said with a smile even though they both knew he probably wouldn't. Tyler wondered if Marcel would give him some cash. Probably, but the thought of asking reminded him of being thirteen and approaching his parents for an advance on his already substantial allowance. His mom always said yes, and his dad always said no.

At the aquarium, they walked side-by-side through the cerulean tinged halls, their footsteps muffled against the carpet. "Do you know what Marcel and Klaus talked about last night?" Tyler asked.

"No," she said, pausing to look at seahorses bobbing whimsically in their tank.

"I'm gonna call that one," he said pointing to one that was a pale blue color, floating off to the side while the others huddled together. "Klaus."

Bonnie snorted. "Why?"

"Looks like an asshole."

He saw Bonnie pressing her lips together to keep from laughing. She spun away from the tank and started walking again. They neared the exit with the small fountain, not on at this time of night, and the locked down gift shop. Bonnie grabbed hold of his arm. "What are you doing?" he asked.

"We're going shopping."

Tyler felt pressure, warm and tingling on his body and his legs felt like jelly when they reappeared inside the gift shop, on the other side of a metal gate. Bonnie released his arm and started toward the racks of key chains.

"We're stealing?"

"Don't find God now," Bonnie said, plucking one of the key chains from the rack and tossing it to him.

Laughing, Tyler caught it. It was a seahorse.

* * *

Riverwalk was lit up and down by dim lights. There was a restaurant open where Bonnie bought them drinks and they walked with them down the whitewashed dock, darkened by the rain and slowly drying. They were a couple of other people out leaning against the railings to look out the water, colored black in the dark.

"It's pretty here," Tyler said, looking over the edge into the gently moving water. He wondered what it would feel like to touch it. How cool it would feel against his skin.

"Yeah," Bonnie agreed.

"If you have to leave are you gonna miss it?"

Bonnie shrugged. "I can find somewhere else, but I'll miss the water. I love the river. I feel closer to nature with it here." She balanced her drink on the rail and gripped it with both hands tilting her head back as a breeze blew, stirring her hair off her shoulders. "I wish I'd come here sooner."

She wished she'd left Mystic Falls sooner.

"Can I ask you a question?" Tyler asked.

Bonnie nodded.

"You said you'd done something," he said, "and that was why the Daywalkers don't like you. Remember?"

"Yeah."

"What did you do?"

Bonnie shrugged and looked down at her hands where she toyed with the bracelet on her wrist. In the light the jewels looked darker and the silver shinier. She didn't speak.

"You don't have to tell me," Tyler said. "It's fine. I-"

"I killed someone."

Tyler was quiet. So was she. He could hear the wet, liquid sound of the water moving up against the pier, the faint music from the restaurant they'd come from and light laughter from the people further down.

"Who?" he asked.

"A couple people," she said, "but there was one in particular. She was...first, and she was important."

"What did she do?"

"She was working for Marcel," Bonnie explained. "She approached Klaus about switching sides. It was a lie. She was going to pass information to Marcel. I was at Turbulence one night, and she was there. She was with someone, and when she saw me, she didn't want me to see them so she got them out. I was suspicious so I called Klaus." She sighed and tucked a piece of hair behind her ear, like she was looking for something to do with her hands.

"She came back, and she thought I'd seen whoever it was, I think," Bonnie said. "So she attacked me. I stopped her, and I took her to Klaus, and he...You know Klaus. He wanted her to talk, and she wouldn't. He wanted me to _make_ her talk. I tried. She wouldn't. So he gave up and told me to kill her, and I did."

Tyler felt something sinking in his stomach. His fingers felt numb, and Bonnie's voice sounded far away. He remembered the smoky interior of Turbulence, hot and packed with hundreds of bodies all dancing and drinking and laughing. And Lydia's apologetic face as she told him they had to cut their visit short, putting him in a cab. "What was her name?" he asked.

"Lydia."

Tyler shut his eyes and set his beer on the railing to dig his fingers into the wood. He thought he heard it grinding beneath his fingertips, as the wood gave way beneath them. Bonnie didn't notice. She was quiet, like she was waiting for him to say something, but she was staring at the water again.

Lydia had been dead this entire time. Not off somewhere dragging some other guy around to shop and drink and dance, not picking up where she left off in her nomadic existence. Not alive.

Tyler let go of the railing and turned, walking away. Bonnie followed him right away. "Where are you going?" she asked.

Tyler didn't answer. He couldn't make his mouth move.

Bonnie reached for his arm to pull him back. "What's wrong?" she asked. When Tyler turned toward her, he looked over her head. At the sky, at the lamps, at the giant Riverwalk sign. Everywhere but her face.

"Tyler," she repeated.

"It was me," he said finally, looking at her face where her lips were parted in confusion. "I knew her. She was my friend, and it was me she was trying to hide. From you."

Bonnie swallowed. He could see her mind working, checking, replaying, figuring. "Tyler, I'm..."

"What?" he asked, louder than he meant to.

"I'm...sorry."

Tyler scoffed in disgust and started walking away again. It took her a few seconds to start following him. He heard her steps on the ground and ignored her. When he turned a corner there she was.

"You can't go home by yourself," Bonnie said as he stopped short. "I have to take you."

Tyler stepped around her. She was right, but he wasn't about to admit it. He hadn't minded it before, but it now was humiliating being escorted around New Orleans like a toddler. Before, walking with Bonnie had been nothing more than walking alongside a friend, headed off together and now it was different.

Bonnie kept pace with him. "I didn't know who she was," she said, talking fast. "There was no way I could have known she was your friend. I didn't even know you were here then!"

"It's not about me," Tyler said, wheeling around to face her. "It's about you. You killed her because _Klaus_ told you, too. You may not have known she was my friend, but you knew she was _someone_, and you did it anyway!"

Bonnie looked slightly taken aback, and Tyler started walking again. It only took her a minute to compose herself again. "She was _someone_ working for Marcel who tried to kill me in a bathroom."

"Because she was trying to protect _me_!"

"So that makes it okay?"

"No," he said. "That's _not _what I'm saying, and you know that's not what I'm saying."

"Obviously I don't."

Tyler stopped walking, and Bonnie stopped, too. They were across the street from a bar overflowing with people with music so loud they could it hear it clearly from where they stood. "She thought you were the bad guy," he said, "because...you are. You're with Klaus, and you're...You're on his side, doing what he wants and that's..._you_. I'm not trying to make you feel bad-"

"That's exactly what you're trying to do."

Yeah, it was.

"You should feel bad on your own," he said. "How do you not care?"

"I tried caring," Bonnie said. "I tried being the _good guy_, and it didn't work. _This _works."

"For who?" Tyler demanded. "For Klaus?"

"For me!" Her voice cracked. She looked away from him almost instantly to swipe away a tear making its way down her cheek.

Tyler pretended he hadn't seen it.

"I am sorry," she said with a shaky breath. "If I'd known... I can't take it back so this is just a waste of time for both of us."

He didn't know what he wanted her to say, but he knew that wasn't it.

"I can make it back on my own," he said, and when he turned and left this time, she didn't follow.

* * *

**Two Months Ago**

Tyler was really lamenting that he and Lydia had never gotten around to exchanging phone numbers. It was just her popping up at his apartment whenever she wanted him to do something with her, and it had become fairly frequent, so frequent Tyler never had to worry about contacting her himself. She'd just pop up.

It would have been easier to just call her instead of returning to Turbulence and trying to find her, to ask if he'd annoyed her so much she was just looking for an excuse to party without him. When he got there, he compelled himself entry to look around for her. The club was packed, but he liked to think he'd be able to pick Lydia out in a crowd, or at least pick out a vampire. But all he got were tipsy humans gyrating on the dance floor and taking shots at the bar. He looked everywhere and still couldn't find her.

She wasn't there and there was a feeling that twisted his gut, telling him something was very, very wrong. But why should anything be wrong?

Maybe the _something _she'd cited when rushing him off had been real. Maybe she'd just forgotten something and had come back to get it before taking off.

He was probably just being paranoid.

Lydia would turn up in a day or two and drag him right back here.

* * *

**Present Day**

When Tyler returned to the house, it was empty. No Marcel to tease him about flirting with Bonnie. Even the attic was quiet. He thought about going to Marcel's place in the Quarter, but worried about going alone. It was lucky he'd made it back without any trouble, and he didn't want to risk it again. He fell asleep on the couch, hoping Marcel would make an impromptu appearance and trying to remember every detail of the time he'd spent with Lydia.

He was woken by a gentle nudge of his knee.

"Morning, sunshine," Marcel said, holding up a bloodbag and tossing it into Tyler's lap. "Late night? You and Bonnie consummate your _friendship_?"

Tyler tossed the blood bag aside and stood. "No," he said. "The night ended early when she told me she killed a friend of mine, and of yours. Lydia."

Marcel's smile faltered, his mouth flattening into a line as he dropped his gaze to the floor. "How'd that come up?"

"I asked what she did to piss everyone off," Tyler said. "Was Lydia the one who told you about me?"

Marcel nodded grimly. "Right after she found out who you were. She wanted me to help you."

"You took your time," Tyler grumbled.

"I wasn't sure what use you could be," he said. "Then she died, and I had to deal with that first."

"Why didn't you tell me she was dead?" Tyler asked. "I thought she just...left."

"I was concerned about your reaction," Marcel said. "I knew it would change things for you. And Bonnie."

Tyler looked up. "This is about Bonnie?"

"You'd be surprised how much is. I've already explained that I need her. And so do you." Marcel sat down in one of the chairs across from Tyler, folding his hands in his lap. "Lydia was my family, and I loved her so I know this is difficult. Bonnie may have pulled the trigger, but Klaus gave the order. He's the enemy, not her. Bonnie made a choice, and it was a bad one, but Lydia knew the risks, and so did I."

Tyler frowned down at his hands, wondering if knowing the risks still meant Lydia had been prepared to die.

"I need to know what happened with you and Bonnie," Marcel said. "What did you say?"

When Tyler shook his head slightly, looking down at the floor incredulously, Marcel frowned. "I need to know if this is a serious setback."

"A setback," Tyler repeated. _Unbelievable_. But of course, he was supposed to be Bonnie's incentive, the shiny thing she was supposed to get distracted by, to lure her to Marcel's side. It was supposed to be him, and without him they may lose her, even if Tyler wasn't convinced they'd ever had her.

"You think this is hard for you? You don't know what it's like for me," Marcel said. "Did you say anything we can't fix?"

"No," Tyler said. "I don't think so."

"I'll figure it out," Marcel said. "You, on the other hand, need a break. Get out of the city for a few days, clear your head. I've got something I need checked out anyway. I was gonna send Sloane, but you'll do. Interested?"

Tyler thought of Bonnie and wondered what she was doing this morning, if she was thinking about last night at all or if she'd just pushed it to the periphery of her mind, determined not to care.

"Yeah," Tyler said. "I'm interested." Maybe somewhere else he could think and walk around without a chaperone and just _be_.

Marcel smiled and clapped his hands together. "Great. You're going to Lake Charles."

* * *

**Sorry for the delay. Thanks for reading and reviewing! **


	18. Bad Bonnie

Bad Bonnie

Bonnie walked home crying. She remembered the last time she'd cried, in her apartment her first night in New Orleans. After that she hadn't shed a single tear, and she'd taken a lot of pride in that. But not anymore. She told herself it was more frustration than anything else, anger that she couldn't make Tyler understand, anger that she wanted him to understand at all. In the elevator, she stared at her distorted reflection in the silver doors, wiping her face furiously and willing herself to just _stop_.

When the elevator stopped on her floor, she stepped out, fumbling with her keys. There were only three of them so there was no reason she should be having so much trouble. But she was. They slipped from her fingers to land on the floor with a loud jangle. Before she could reach down to pick them up, someone else was doing it for her in a blur of pale blond hair and pale pink fingernails. "Here you are, darling," Rebekah said, holding the keys up to eye level.

Bonnie snatched them from her so hard it hurt.

"Rough night?" Rebekah asked calmly, cocking her head to the side and fixing Bonnie with a wide-eyed, innocent stare.

"Get away from me," Bonnie said, trying the lock again.

"That's a 'yes' then."

"I am _not_ kidding," Bonnie hissed, glaring at Rebekah and wondering if it would make her feel better to see her in a crumpled heap on the floor. She wondered if that would cause issues in her deal with Klaus. She wondered if she cared either way. "Get away from me

"Rebekah," Hayley said from their apartment door, arms folded around her stomach. Her wardrobe had improved since she'd moved in with Rebekah, and today she wore a dress that accentuated the roundness of her belly and also, her impressive cleavage. "Leave her alone."

Rebekah rolled her eyes and looked back to Bonnie who gave up on the key and her trembling fingers and magicked the door open. "You should know," Rebekah began but Bonnie was already inside and slamming the door shut. With it closed, she rested her forehead against it, inhaling deeply.

The wood felt smooth and cool beneath her head, and the apartment was dark and still. She extended a hand to the light switch, flicked it on. The tranquility of it, the complete silence used to be a comfort to her. The whiny hum of the refrigerator and the bluster of the air conditioning was a balm, but now it just felt wrong.

_The bad guy._ That was her, but she didn't know what else to be. The good guy thing hadn't helped her, and now she wasn't sure, despite what she'd told Tyler, if this was helping her either.

"Bonnie."

Dread pooled in her stomach when she heard Klaus' voice. Maybe _that_ was what Rebekah thought she should know.

"Not tonight," Bonnie said, not moving from the door. She didn't want to see him, didn't want him there. Of all the nights for him to pay her a visit, _why_ did it have to be this one?

She felt him behind her, coming slowly to stand at her back.

"What's the matter, love?" he asked, deceptively kind. She could smell his cologne, something expensive no doubt. "Did someone hurt you?"

She remembered him asking, as if it was years ago, _"Do you ever think about how I am the closest thing you have to a friend here?"_

Bonnie laughed, dark and sarcastic in her throat. She was a shiny little toy, one of Klaus' prized possessions. If anyone hurt her, he'd hurt them. His favorite witch. His _only_ witch. He would fight for her. And if he ever got the slightest feeling she couldn't be trusted anymore, he'd kill her.

She turned back around to face him. He didn't comment on her red eyes and damp cheeks, though he certainly noticed them. And he'd certainly been listening as she'd come in. But he didn't ask. He looked at her, blinking.

"Just go," she said. "Unless you need something," she added, as an afterthought. She both hoped he did and prayed he didn't. It would do what it always did - it would distract her from less pleasing thoughts, thoughts of who she used to be and who she was now and how the two didn't know how to fit around one another.

"I don't," Klaus said. He reached out to touch her neck, where the necklace he'd given her hung. He adjusted it with a delicate twist of his fingers and even once it laid perfectly against her skin, his touch lingered.

Bonnie considered that. She was still unsure of what had happened with her and Tyler. They'd gone so quickly from their timidly genuine alliance to...this. It had happened so fast.

Klaus was the closest thing she had to a friend here, and it was pathetic. A voice in the back of her head asked if it had been any better back in Mystic Falls. Klaus at least checked up on her. Too much really but he did. And he would kill to keep her safe, even if it was only because he needed her alive and healthy to do his work. It was something, and it was more than she'd had.

A new tear rolled down her cheek. Before she could wipe it away and pretend it hadn't existed, Klaus did it for her, his fingers moving from her chest to her cheek in less than a blink.

Klaus could be everything. Maybe. Her sort-of friend, a lover if she wanted one, an employer, a jeweler. Whatever. Klaus-of-all-trades. If she was the bad guy, why not go all the way? Klaus didn't care that she killed Lydia. He'd loved every minute of it. It really scratched all his itches, his need for cruelty and murder and blood, to be stronger than everyone else. He understood. He didn't judge, didn't ask. It wouldn't be perfect. At times it would probably be terrible, but it would be something. It'd be more than she'd had back in Mystic Falls. More than she had right now, standing in the apartment she'd loved at first which now felt wrong and dirty and shallow.

Bonnie kissed him. She really threw herself into it, willed herself to enjoy it. Klaus wasn't a bad kisser. He didn't seem surprised to feel her lips on his. In fact he seemed to be glowing with an inner pride, a satisfaction that she'd finally given in, that she'd been the one to bridge the gap, to go _there_. It was all on her. It was what he'd wanted. It was no fun if he was doing all the pushing.

She twined her arms around his neck, leaned into him, told herself to relish in the feel of his fingers now pressed on either sides of her spine, holding her to him. It wasn't a bad feeling. It was just a feeling, just another sensation, neither good nor bad, just there. Objectively, Klaus' tongue sliding into her mouth, touching hers, wasn't bad. Nothing about it was bad, but nothing about it was good.

But she didn't mind it. She didn't mind the gentle pressure of Klaus's fingers on her back, moving lower and lower. And she didn't mind the quick nip he laid on her lower lip or when her back hit the wall, and Klaus pressed himself so close to her she couldn't have told where she ended and he began. A hum escaped his mouth, a gentle vibration against her lips, and she hummed back, just for the symmetry of it.

And it was fine until she heard Tyler's voice in her head and saw him walking away from her, saw Lydia in the bathroom at Turbulence with her bloody mouth and shut eyes. A wave of revulsion hit her, twisting her gut into a tight knot, and Bonnie pushed him off, his vampire body surprisingly easy to disturb. She wiped her mouth, wanting the sensation of the kiss to fade away faster, to disappear entirely.

"I see we're experiencing a crisis," Klaus commented dryly. He was annoyed.

_Apparently so_, Bonnie thought. She stepped away from the door, away from him, and she kept her back to him until she heard the door open and he stepped out. She didn't breathe until the door shut behind him, and she went to pour herself a glass of wine.

It was bitter, and she left it on the counter half empty to go shower.

* * *

**Two Months Ago**

Bonnie watched Lydia's body burn from the entrance of the crypt, leaning against the stone and wondering when she'd be free to go. Klaus and Elijah were talking in the corner. Strategizing, brainstorming, debating the meaning of life. She didn't know, but she didn't know why she still had to be here. She'd done her part.

Lydia hadn't been talkative despite Klaus' and Bonnie's best efforts, and her brain was locked down tight. Her screams had filled the crypt like water filled a balloon, brushing all the corners until they'd been replaced by silence as Bonnie removed her heart and left it lying next to her.

"Can I go?" Bonnie said impatiently. This dress was wasted on the dusty cemetery. She should be dancing underneath strobe lights, letting the dress catch the glow and spit off tiny molecules of light. She shouldn't be standing in a dim crypt where her shoes were getting dirty.

Klaus and Elijah looked over like they'd forgotten she was there. Bonnie planted her hands on her hips impatiently in response which earned her a smirk from Klaus who came to stand next to her. "Forgive me, love," he said. "But there's something else I require from you."

"What?" she said.

"You'll need to inform Marcel."

"_What_?"

"You'll need to inform Marcel," Klaus repeated, as if her hearing was the problem with this whole scenario.

"No," she said which made Klaus raise his eyebrows. Across the room Elijah cracked a smile.

"Bonnie," Klaus said gently, laying gentle fingers on her arm, "you work for me, remember?"

"And in giant, bold print in our spoken contract is the understanding that I won't be putting myself in harm's way for you," Bonnie snapped, moving her arm away. "That's our deal."

"I remember," he assured her, "and if I thought Marcel would hurt you, I wouldn't ask. He won't do anything to you. Just go."

"And if he does?"

"You're a Bennett witch," Klaus said. "You stitched yourself back together just fine earlier didn't you?" He reached out to brush her hair away from her neck at the place where Lydia's bite had been. Bonnie stepped away from his fingers. "Do whatever you need to. I won't be angry. Go to Marcel and inform him of Lydia's...passing."

"And what do I tell him?" Bonnie snapped, folding her arms across her chest and wanting more than anything to just give Klaus one hell of an aneurysm. "That we tortured and killed her because she was playing both sides in your little war?"

"Tell him the truth," Klaus said. "Minus a few extraneous details. She attacked you, and you defended yourself. Now she's dead." He looked back to Elijah for his agreement, and he got it in the form of a short nod of his head.

"Sounds fine to me," Elijah said.

"Then one of you can go explain it," Bonnie said. She'd already had one vampire bite her tonight. She didn't need another one making a play for her throat.

"Bonnie," Klaus said tiredly. "Go now._"_

She went.

* * *

Marcel wasn't alone when she arrived. He sat at the bar with Duke, Ronan and Sloane drinking and laughing. The three of them swiveled around on their bar stools when Bonnie entered, and Marcel dropped his glass on the countertop. "Good evening, Bonnie," he said flashing a smile. "What brings you here?"

She knew he was thinking it was sex. That she'd finally gotten over herself and given in to her base, carnal urges. She would have preferred that as a reason instead of this grim and dangerous notification Klaus had tasked her with. At the very least Bonnie could be certain Marcel wouldn't proposition her for another go anytime soon.

"Can we talk?" Bonnie asked. "Alone?"

Duke snickered as he, Ronan and Sloane slid off their stools to leave, going out the door. When the doors slid shut behind them, Marcel spoke. "So?" he said, glancing down to his watch. "Little late, isn't it? What can I do for you, Bonnie?"

Bonnie steeled herself for violence. She had Klaus' go-ahead to do whatever harm was necessary to escape Marcel, and she'd do it without a second thought. There was no point in drawing it out. "Lydia's dead."

Marcel's mouth gave an almost imperceptible twitch, and his gaze darkened. He turned on the stool, looking down at the bar. His shoulders rose and fell slowly for a few minutes as he gripped the glass in front of him. It seemed to take a lot to let it go then he turned back to her, and his face was like a mask. Cold, indifferent, with his smiles far, far away.

"Did you kill her?" he asked. He stared at her coolly, waiting patiently for her answer. But there was a tick of his jaw and his mouth was pressed into a straight line. Behind his lips she believed he was gritting his teeth.

Bonnie drew herself up, told herself not to look too guilty, told her heart not to pound. "Yes," she answered. "She attacked me, and I defended myself."

Marcel stared at her, and she felt more naked, more exposed than she'd been the night they'd slept together. She told herself not to look away. Vampires were predators. Marcel was one, too. If she showed weakness, he'd pounce.

"Why?" Marcel asked, in the monotonous tone of grief. Oh he didn't want her to _know, _but she knew because she wasn't stupid. And if she'd thought Marcel wouldn't feel anything about the woman he'd sired himself being dead, she wouldn't have argued with Klaus about coming.

"Why what?"

"Why did she attack you?"

"I don't know," Bonnie said, thinking of the Someone Lydia had escorted out of the club. She wondered who they were, what they would think when they found out Lydia was gone, "but she did."

"Where were you?"

"A club."

"Which one?"

"Turbulence."

"I don't know why she'd hurt you," Marcel said. It was a fishing expedition, waiting to see if Bonnie would break, if she'd let something slip about this thing neither he nor Klaus were ready to speak openly about. They were at war, and they both knew it, but neither wanted to be the first to declare it to the other.

Maybe this would change things.

"Well she did," Bonnie said. "I hurt her back."

"Couldn't have let it slide?" Marcel asked.

"I've let enough things slide in my life."

Marcel exhaled down into his nearly empty glass then he drank down the rest. "Goodnight, Bonnie," he said.

Bonnie left and as she stepped outside, she heard glass breaking.

* * *

**Present Day**

Bonnie laid on her bed in her robe, hair still wet from her shower, with no intention of drying it, staring up at the ceiling and wondering if it would have changed anything if she'd known Lydia was Tyler's friend. She couldn't decide. The Old Bonnie would say yes. Of course it would have changed things, but the Old Bonnie also reminded her newer model that she wouldn't have found herself torturing and killing a vampire on Klaus's behalf either.

But Bonnie 2.0 whispered in Bonnie's ear and told her not to feel bad for it. Lydia was grown-up, maybe a grown-up times. She understood the risks she was taking in going up against Klaus, trying to fool Klaus, attacking a Bennett witch. She knew, and Bonnie didn't have to apologize for it.

_You're not bad, _Bonnie 2.0 sighed breathily. Bonnie could picture her on the bed next to her, her head propped in her hand and wearing an identical robe to Bonnie's own. The only difference was she seemed to shine, dipped in gold and platinum, never touched by anything. If she'd been with Tyler tonight she would have shrugged her shoulders carelessly when he told her Lydia was his friend. She wouldn't have said she was sorry, and she wouldn't have almost cried right in front of him.

Bonnie 2.0 would have kissed Klaus a long time ago, when his attraction was first made apparent. Bonnie 2.0 would have gone to bed with him tonight. Bonnie remembered the vision she'd had of her, made up inside her head of a proud and happy reflection of herself with a twisted, dark smile after her night with Marcel. She would have been proud of Bonnie for sleeping with Klaus.

Bonnie 2.0 wouldn't have cared, and Bonnie wished for what felt like the millionth time that she was like her. Tyler thought she didn't care, but if she didn't she would have given him up the minute she saw him. She would have taken him to Klaus herself. If Klaus had asked her to kill him, she would have done it without thinking, without reservation and without guilt.

Bonnie 2.0 would have done it.

It would be easier if Bonnie didn't care.

* * *

Against her better judgment Bonnie went to the Garden District. She approached the front door of the grand house and knocked, prepared with a million justifications for why Tyler needed to get over himself and cut her some slack. It wasn't Tyler who opened the door but Marcel who looked at her with unbridled amusement, lips curved into a smile.

"And here I thought I'd have to go to you," he said. With a flourish of his arm, he stepped aside. "Please, come in."

"Where is he?" Bonnie asked, stepping into the house. As soon as she was inside she knew Tyler wasn't there, and she turned to Marcel awaiting an explanation.

"He's...away," Marcel said, pushing the door closed with the tips of his fingers. "Temporarily. He wanted a break from the city."

"And you gave him one?" Bonnie said.

Marcel shrugged and started walking. Bonnie followed him into the kitchen. "I did," he confirmed before spinning around to face Bonnie. "Would you like to leave a message?"

"No," Bonnie said. Everything she had to say to Tyler, now useless in his absence, was for his ears only. "You must have known they were friends. Tyler and Lydia. Right? Why didn't you tell him about her? About me?"

"Didn't see the point," Marcel said with a shrug of his shoulders.

"You should have told him," Bonnie said. "He shouldn't have had to find out that way."

"What way?" Marcel said, cocking his head to the side in a distinctly sarcastic gesture that made her want to punch him. "_From you_? Why not? That's how I found out."

_Yeah, but I don't care about you_, Bonnie almost said, but she didn't. She didn't know if she wanted to care about Tyler. It had been okay at first, she supposed once they got over their initial humps. Being Tyler's friend, him being hers. But now that was done, and she wasn't sure if she wanted it back or if she just wanted to make sure Tyler knew she didn't care what he thought.

"What do you want, Bonnie?" Marcel said, with a breathy sigh. "Trying to make amends?"

"No," Bonnie said, too quickly. "There's nothing I can do." Lydia was dead, and there was no bringing her back.

"There may be something," Marcel said, too casually for Bonnie not to be suspicious.

"No," she said. Bonnie's amends - amends she wasn't convinced she needed to be making, not to Marcel anyway - were not going to be part of his obsession with getting her on his team. Did she need to make a t-shirt with the words Team Klaus emblazoned on its front in giant letters for him to take the hint?

"Why not?" Marcel asked, unbothered by her staunch refusal. "You keep killing people I care about. Lydia, Campbell. Seems like I'm owed a favor or two."

"It doesn't seem that way at all actually," Bonnie said. "You think I'm interested in redemption arc, Marcel? I'm not, and you're not better than me."

He was worse, of that she was certain. Maybe he wasn't on Klaus' level (who was?), but he didn't get to stand here and tell her how _good_ he was compared to her, not when he was the one with witches under lock-and-key, not when he was the one who fed on humans daily and wiped their memories away.

She turned on her heel and moved toward the door. Her hand was on the knob when Marcel crossed the room in a speedy blur, resting a hand gently against the door frame to keep it closed. "Do you ever wonder why Qetsiyah brought you back?" he asked, looking at her intently.

Bonnie's hand slipped from the door. "How do you know about that?" She certainly hadn't told him about Qetsiyah. She'd been vague about her resurrection and no one else knew. Not Klaus, not anyone.

Marcel ignored her question. "You _died_, and she went through the trouble of bringing you back. Why would she do that for you?"

"Did Tyler tell you?" Bonnie demanded. She'd told him. Stupidly she'd told him. He was angry with her, sure, but that didn't mean all her confidences had been tossed out the window. He had no right to tell Marcel about it. Maybe he'd done it to get back at her for killing Lydia.

"Tyler didn't tell me anything," Marcel said, sounding impatient with her lack of interest in answering his questions. "I'm the King of New Orleans," he reminded her. "I'm very well-versed in your story, Bonnie. And it's a complicated one." He took his hand from the door and put his back to it instead, and Bonnie stepped away, putting some space between them.

"You're supposed to do something great," Marcel said, arms folded casually across his chest. He looked her directly in the eye with the same look he'd fixed her with the night she'd come to make her grim notification, when she confessed to killing Lydia and lied and said it was self-defense. When he'd looked at her and knew she was lying but didn't have the means to call her on it.

"That great thing you're supposed to do," he said, "I don't think _this_ is it."

_What is _this? she wanted to ask, but she knew. Working for Klaus - _with _Klaus. Being the bad guy.

But how did he know what Qetsiyah wanted her to do with her new lease on life? Qetsiyah supplied nothing but her magic and Bonnie's angry, disappointed double to lay out all of Bonnie's mistakes and missteps and bad judgments, whittle away her choices, crush her logic and send her fleeing the only home, and the only family, she'd ever had.

She'd done exactly what Qetsiyah wanted.

Marcel could go fuck himself.

Bonnie was annoyed that he thought he could keep her here, that he thought any opinion he had on her life was welcome. She came to see Tyler, not him. And Tyler wasn't here. Bonnie looked Marcel in the eye until she disappeared silently from the house and reappeared on the porch. She put her sunglasses on and walked away.

* * *

**Thanks for reading and reviewing! **


	19. Visionary

Visionary

Marcel gave Tyler a car to drive to Lake Charles. It was more ostentatious than Tyler would have preferred, low to the ground, black and gleaming. Before he'd packed Tyler off, Marcel had informed him it would get him from zero to sixty in less than seven seconds. "Don't scratch it," Marcel had said before Tyler took to the interstate.

There was already a hotel room reserved for him, but Tyler didn't spend much time there. As soon as he checked in, dropping his bag off in his room, he was off. Marcel hadn't been very specific about what Tyler was expected to do there. He hadn't really known himself. All he knew was Elijah made regular visits here, leaving New Orleans for days at a time. It was unclear whether or not Klaus knew about these getaways, but either way Marcel suspected something bad, something that could make or break their claim to the city.

In the car, Tyler unfolded the copy of Elijah's credit card statement. It wasn't in Elijah's name but that of Jonathan Sykes. Marcel hadn't gotten around to explaining how he'd gotten it, but he'd highlighted a specific charge, telling Tyler to start there. It had been made at a jewelry store in town.

Emecheta Jewelers didn't look like much from the outside where the walls were made of crumbling brick and the sign was fading and hanging a bit low on one side. Inside, however, it was a different story. Everything was white or made of spotless glass. The display cases all shone and lights illuminated velvet lined interiors all in the same royal blue.

"How may I help you, sir?" an employee asked as Tyler entered, setting off the light ringing of a bell. He smiled politely, folding his hands in front of him. His nametag read Evan.

"There was a payment made here," Tyler said. "A few weeks ago. Can you look it up?"

"Yes, sir," Evan said. "I just need the name and some identification."

Tyler smiled. There was someone in the back whistling to themselves and flipping through what sounded like a magazine. They wouldn't be bothering them. Tyler leaned against the counter, holding Ethan's gaze. "The name's Jonathan Sykes. Look it up."

Evan's gaze became glassy, hardly there as he dropped his gaze to the computer, punching on the keys. When he found what he was looking for he smiled politely and angled the screen so Tyler could see. "He purchased our limited edition Darling Diamond Necklace," Evan said.

"Were you here?" Tyler asked.

"Yes, sir. I handled the transaction myself."

"Did he say anything about who it was for?"

"No, sir," Evan responded. "But he did ask us to include a card in the delivery."

"Delivery?" Tyler asked. He glanced to the screen and sure enough there was an additional charge for the delivery of the item and an address. The name attached was Sarah Lane.

"What did the card say?"

Evan clicked his mouse a few times and pointed when something appeared on the screen. "We keep very detailed records," he said proudly.

"So I see," Tyler commented, unable to stop the smile from creeping onto his face.

The card read: _For my beloved Katerina_.

* * *

Tyler compelled Evan to forget the entire thing had ever taken place, he headed straight to the address given. It was a secluded little house, sitting along lake, separated from the next house by at least half a mile. Tyler left his car a decent walk away and headed toward the bordering trees. It was cool in the shade of the trees where he had a perfect view of the front of the house. It was a squat one level cabin with a wraparound porch with a dock extending out over the glassy surface of the water. It reminded him of the Gilbert lake house. There were tire tracks on the dirt path in front of the porch steps though there wasn't a car in sight. He listened for sounds from the house, any sign of life and came away with nothing.

If this was Katherine's house, she wasn't here at the moment.

Tyler remained in the trees as the sun began to set, painting the sky a pale purple. When the sky went black he settled on the ground to wait, listening to the rustle of the trees around him, disturbed by the wind. He sent a text to Marcel whose number had been programmed in immediately.

_Do you know who Katherine Pierce is? She used to go by Katerina Petrova. _

Marcel's response was swift.

_Doesn't everyone?_

Tyler rolled his eyes and punched the buttons. _I think I'm at her house. Elijah's been seeing her. _

He'd only just sent it when headlamps came into view, and he shoved his phone into his pocket as a car pulled onto the uneven path outside the house, a simple black SUV with its headlamps sweeping the trees as it pulled to a stop. Tyler ducked low, watching intently for a glimpse at the driver's face. It took a moment for the driver to round the side of the car, her arms laden with paper bags. She balanced them in her arms as she took out her keys, searching for the right one. The truck's horn sounded as she activated the alarm.

Katherine took the porch steps two at a time and unlocked the front door, pushing it open with her hip and slipping into the house. The door closed behind her and a few seconds later lights were flicked on, flooding the windows with light. He heard her banging around inside, putting away groceries. When she turned on some music, she made sure it was up loud enough that even without his advanced hearing he'd be able to hear it.

With the music as a cover, Tyler approached the house. He took the porch steps slowly, pressing his back against the wall. Katherine's shadow moved along the porch, jumping in and out of the light. When the music was shut up abruptly and the lights were turned off, Tyler listened to the retreat of her footsteps and the closing of a door.

When she was gone, Tyler turned to the door. His chances up against Katherine were...slim, and he didn't think attacking her was the way to go. She'd tell Elijah about him right away, and he'd find a way to pass that info along to Klaus without informing him of his girlfriend being around. But she was important enough for Elijah to take time out of his busy schedule to come see her, important enough to hide here under a fake name and purchase expensive jewelry for.

They could use that.

Marcel could get someone down here to help him if detaining Katherine was what he wanted to do. They could use her to get Elijah out of the game. It wasn't much, but it was something.

Tyler touched the doorknob as he thought. Or at least he tried to. His fingers didn't touch it. Confused, he backed away from the door and tried to touch it again. No dice. Quietly he stepped off the porch and rounded the house, finding a cracked window. He pushed his fingers toward it, narrowing his eyes as they pressed against solid air, his fingertips brushing against an invisible barrier.

First he thought of Bonnie, back in New Orleans working for Klaus. Maybe she'd spelled the house at Elijah's request, to provide Katherine with some extra protection. But telling Bonnie would risk Klaus also knowing. Bonnie was on Klaus' payroll, not Elijah's, and it was unlikely she'd risk Klaus' ire by helping Elijah keep this particular secret from him.

Elijah could have found another witch to do the work for him.

But there was another option. It was far-fetched, and he reminded himself of how dumb it was as soon as it occurred to him.

Tyler went back around to the front of the house, stopping in front of Katherine's truck. He gave it a bit of a shove, satisfied when the alarm split the tranquil silence.

It only took a few minutes for Katherine to appear on the porch, pressing the button on the remote and peering out into the darkness with squinted eyes. She turned to return to the house and came up short, letting out an audible gasp as Tyler blocked her path.

Katherine swallowed as Tyler's hand closed around her neck, holding her in place. He didn't squeeze. He wasn't going to kill her. But she stiffened anyway, body tense and ready for him to break her neck and call it a night.

It took him a moment to realize her skin was warm where he held her.

She was human.

* * *

Katherine was also on vervain so compelling her wasn't an option. Instead Tyler took her around to the back porch where he sat her down in a wicker chair and took a seat on the matching love seat. The only light they had was that provided by the moon hanging overhead, and it was barely enough. But it would suffice.

"Well this is a surprise," Katherine said, leaning back in the chair. She was trying a bit too hard to look calm about the whole thing, but old habits died hard, he supposed. Katherine wasn't used to being the weaker one in these encounters.

"I agree," Tyler said. "You're human, huh?"

"That cure you all were on about was all it was cracked up to be," Katherine said, crossing one leg over the other and looking out to the lake like she wanted him to evaporate already. He heard it in her voice, the disdain, the hatred of her newfound humanity.

"If you don't want to be human," Tyler said, "then why are you? Have Elijah turn you."

Katherine kept her stare focused on the water, but she swallowed.

"He won't do it," Tyler realized. "Why not?"

Finally Katherine swung her head back to him. "Why are you here, Tyler? Last I heard Klaus had you on the run. I've got some experience with that so I can tell you that this is a really _stupid_ move."

"Maybe not," a voice said.

Bonnie's voice.

She was right next to him in a pair of jean shorts and a t-shirt, her hair pulled back into a ponytail. She threw an arm around the back of the couch, looking at Katherine in thinly veiled irritation, her lips pursed.

Tyler didn't know whether to be annoyed or worried or both. "What the hell -"

Bonnie raised a finger to her lips just as Katherine spoke.

"Just tell me what you want," she said. Tyler turned back to her, seeing that she wasn't looking toward Bonnie at all. Her gaze was stuck on him, as if Bonnie wasn't there.

But she _was_ there, sitting right next to him running her fingers through her ponytail and jiggling her leg looking a cross between bored and amused as Katherine went on. He wanted to demand to know what she was doing here, how she'd found him, what she wanted, but if Katherine couldn't see her, Tyler wasn't going to point her out.

"I'd bet you don't want me telling Elijah about you," Katherine went on, "but you came here for something, and it wasn't just to say hello."

Tyler wasn't about to tell her about Marcel. He should be calling him to see what he wanted him to do about this new, human Katherine anyway. And in case Katherine had retained some of her more slippery traits, he didn't want her carrying anything about Marcel back to Elijah.

Bonnie leaned forward to rest her elbows on her knees. "She's a doppelganger, and she's human. Don't you know what that means?" Katherine was saying something else, but Tyler wasn't listening. Bonnie's voice was in his ear, still speaking. A little angel, a little devil, maybe both, on his shoulder. "It means," she said, putting her lips so close to his ear that he could feel her breath on his neck, "hybrids."

"For Klaus," Tyler said, out loud.

Katherine looked at him. "What about Klaus?"

"He doesn't know you're here does he?" Tyler said.

"No," Katherine said, folding her arms defiantly across her chest. "Are you gonna tell him? Because that's a two way street. You say _anything _about me, and I'll-"

"Has Elijah been taking your blood?" Tyler demanded. "Is that why he hasn't turned you into a vampire?"

"_No,_" Katherine snapped, sounding annoyed. "I know what you're thinking, and let me assure you, I haven't been used to make anymore hybrids. Klaus doesn't know I'm here, and he doesn't know I'm human."

Bonnie sighed heavily beside him. "Not hybrids for _Klaus_," she said. "Hybrids for _you_."

Tyler furrowed his brow, staring down at the lines of the porch where it dipped and warped in certain sections. Klaus was the only one who could make hybrids. Without his contribution they were just as lost as they'd be without a doppelganger's.

"Make them yourself," Bonnie said, like she could read his mind. Maybe she could.

_I can't_, he thought. _It's not possible_.

"Why not?" Bonnie asked. "Because _Klaus_ told you so?" She laughed, and it sounded like she was laughing at him. And that pissed him off because it wasn't the same as it had been before, when they were in the same boat, before he knew about Lydia. "It'll work," she said, more seriously. "Make them yourself. Use Katherine. Trust me."

"I _don't_ trust you," Tyler said.

"Feeling's mutual," Katherine said.

Tyler and Bonnie both ignored her. With a breathy sigh, Bonnie rolled her eyes. "Do you trust Bonnie?"

Tyler looked at her. "You are-"

She withdrew. "Am I?" Tyler opened his mouth, about to ask her what game she thought she was playing, but she spoke first. "I'm not," she said. "Bonnie calls me 2.0. You can do the same." She smiled at Tyler's confused expression.

Tyler opened his mouth to tell her to stop playing games, but her smile only widened. It was then he realized that it sat on her face differently, that it was Bonnie physically with the same dirty green eyes and dark hair, the same bow shaped mouth and small frame. But she carried herself differently. This Bonnie was predatory and dangerous.

"Get her blood, make the hybrids," she said. "You'll need them."

Tyler stared at her, trying to figure it out, but Bonnie 2.0 looked back to Katherine and waved her hand in her direction, in a "Go on" kind of way.

"I have a proposition for you," Tyler said. "It's a win/win."

"I'll decide that," Katherine said though her interest was already piqued. He saw it on her face. A deal meant a chance to walk away. Walking away meant survival. Katherine _loved_ survival.

"I want your blood," Tyler said. "And in exchange..." He'd have to clear it with Marcel later, but he saw no reason not to make it happen. "...You can be a vampire again."

Katherine looked at him, considering it. He wondered what she was thinking about. Maybe she was weighing the odds of Tyler letting her live if she refused, maybe she was thinking about how she'd explain her return to vampirism to Elijah.

She didn't take long.

"You've got yourself a deal."

* * *

Katherine invited him into the house. She made coffee for herself while Tyler called Marcel, and she remained unaware of Bonnie 2.0 walking around like she owned the place. For a while she stood at Katherine's side, watching her as she poured cream into her coffee mug. When she got tired of that she took to examining the paintings on the walls.

Marcel listened to Tyler's plan in silence until he was finished. "You want to make hybrids?"

"Yes."

"You can't."

"I can," Tyler said. _I think_.

Marcel laughed. "I admire your optimism, Tyler. But that doesn't sound...plausible."

Bonnie 2.0 wandered back to his side, standing right in front of him and holding his gaze. She smiled knowingly, like she could hear what Marcel was saying and it was incredibly amusing to her.

"I can do it," Tyler said. "I can at least try. Either way, we don't want Katherine staying a human. If Klaus finds out about her, he'll make the hybrids on his own. Even if this doesn't go the way I want, it'll keep Klaus from getting any more reinforcements."

Bonnie 2.0 nodded her head like she was very impressed with him and went back to checking out Katherine's art.

Marcel was quiet. "I don't like werewolves."

"They won't be werewolves when I'm done, they'll be hybrids," Tyler said.

"Much better," Marcel deadpanned.

"_I'm _a hybrid," Tyler reminded.

"So is Klaus."

_Good point_. "I'll handle it all myself. You just tell me where to find the wolves and I'll talk to them," he said. "You hardly have to do anything."

Marcel sighed and after a few seconds of that he said, "I'm sending Duke to you. He'll give Katherine his blood. He'll bring all the equipment you'll need."

"Thank you," Tyler said.

"Yeah, okay," Marcel said. "Call me when it's done."

"Will do."

He was about to hang up when Marcel spoke again. "Bonnie stopped by," he said. "She was looking for you."

Bonnie 2.0 turned to him as if she wanted to see his reaction. "What did she want?" Tyler asked. Apparently Bonnie saw this double regularly which meant she knew who - or what - she was. He wanted to ask her himself, wanted to ask Marcel to give him Bonnie's number so he could, but that would mean talking to her, and he didn't want to do that just yet.

"Don't know, but she wanted to see you," Marcel said.

"Glad I missed her," Tyler said.

Marcel laughed. "I'm sure. I'll talk to you later." When he hung up, Katherine was sipping her coffee across the room watching him.

"Well?" she said.

"A friend of mine is on his way," Tyler said. "He's a vampire, and he's gonna turn you _after_ get the blood. It's gonna be awhile though."

Katherine shrugged as she pulled out a chair and sat down. "Make yourself comfortable," she said, not sounding like she cared whether he did so or not.

Tyler sat down on the couch, shifting away when Bonnie 2.0 joined him. "Very good, Tyler," she said.

He wondered if he was going to regret this. He had no idea who this person was, what they were. She could be anything or anyone, luring him into a trap or something. He wanted to believe she was a figment of his imagination, but that would mean he and Bonnie shared a psychosis. That wasn't exactly unheard of, he supposed.

Tyler turned his head to look at Bonnie 2.0 again, to try and pick out any differences between her and the Bonnie he'd left behind in New Orleans, but she was gone. As if she'd never been there at all.

* * *

When Duke arrived it was past midnight and Katherine granted him an invitation so he could come in with empty blood bags and tubes and towels. Katherine watched him warily as Duke inserted the needle into her arm. They were all quiet, the only sounds the recurring crinkle of plastic as Duke sealed up the full blood bags and put them into a bag.

"What are you going to tell Elijah?" Tyler asked from his spot on the couch. He'd only moved a couple of times since sitting down.

"Don't worry about it," Katherine said, not taking her eyes off of her arm and her blood as it fled her veins to pool into that last blood bag. "He won't know you were here as long as I get what I was promised."

"We could kill you," Duke said conversationally, brushing his hands off on his pants.

Katherine's mouth twitched, but she was trying hard not to look spooked. She'd _love_ being a vampire again. She'd been brand new, weaker than even Tyler, but it was better than nothing.

"We won't," Tyler assured her, cutting his eyes to Duke. "Right?"

Duke grinned. "Right."

When the bag was full, Duke sealed it closed and dropped it into the duffel with the others. He zipped it closed.

Katherine stood on unsteady legs, glaring at them both. Tyler could tell she expected him to renege or at the very least wouldn't be surprised if he did. There was nothing she could do about it. Duke would either turn her or they'd kill her to keep her from telling anyone. Now they could even compel her to forget it all most likely, with all her vervain-laced blood gathered in plastic bags.

And she'd deserve it. Tyler probably never would have ended up in this situation if he hadn't activated his curse, a occurrence Katherine had orchestrated. There were plenty of things he thought were worse than Katherine not getting what she wanted.

But a deal was a deal.

"Fine," Tyler said, looking expectantly to Duke who nodded and took a bite of his wrist. When he extended it to her, it was red and dripping, and Katherine accepted it like she was still a vampire, like the blood was still everything to her. She fastened her mouth to his arm with enthusiasm, and when she drew back blood stained her lips and chin. She didn't bother wiping it away.

With a satisfied, anticipatory gleam in her eye Katherine brushed her wavy locks out of her eyes. "Want to do the honors, Lockwood?" she asked. "This is the only time you'll ever get to do this."

Tyler stepped forward. "I hope I never see you again," he said.

"You and me both," Katherine said. "It was a pleasure doing business with you." She held his gaze as he placed a hand on her forehead and another on her chin and twisted her head roughly to the side. The crack was loud, possibly even louder than the thump as she hit the floor.

Tyler picked up the duffel bag and led Duke to the door. "Let's go."

* * *

**Thanks for reading and reviewing!**


	20. The Last Witch In New Orleans

**I apologize for the delay in updating, but here you go! Thanks for reading!**

* * *

The Last Witch In New Orleans

Marcel summoned Bonnie to the house. She thought about refusing - she _had_ refused - but then Marcel told her he wasn't asking for himself but for Tyler, who'd apparently had a change of heart about shutting her out. Again, she thought about refusing. That embittered part of her, still confused and sorting through everything, didn't want anything to do with anyone. She'd been alone ever since she'd returned from the house yesterday. Not even Klaus had bothered her. And she didn't want to give Tyler the satisfaction of coming when he called. She'd tried talking to him once before, and he hadn't been around for it because _he_ wanted to leave the city altogether because he couldn't stand to share the space with her.

But still Bonnie went.

As promised, Marcel wasn't there, and it was Tyler who opened the door for her. He didn't speak and the expression on his face didn't change as he stepped aside for her to come in. When he closed it, he still didn't say anything.

"Well?" Bonnie said impatiently.

Tyler looked at her like he couldn't remember why he'd asked her there to begin with. Finally he said, "What can you tell me about Bonnie 2.0?"

Of all the things Bonnie thought he may say that hadn't been anywhere near the list. "What?" she said, confused.

Tyler repeated himself.

"I-How do you know about her?" Bonnie asked.

"She...appeared to me," Tyler said. "I guess that's the way to describe it. She talked to me."

"What about?" Bonnie demanded. "What did she say?"

Bonnie 2.0 was _hers_, the little cricket on her shoulder telling her what to do. Not Tyler's. Bonnie 2.0's voice was on a loop in the back of Bonnie's mind, but that always seemed like something Bonnie created than Bonnie 2.0 put there for her, but now she wasn't sure, if Bonnie 2.0 could do the same for Tyler.

Tyler furrowed his brow and looked down at the floor. "Nothing important," he said, and it didn't take a genius to know he was lying. "Is she dangerous?" he asked.

"I don't think so," Bonnie answered though she supposed she didn't really know.

"What is she?"

"I don't know," Bonnie said shortly. "I thought she was just in my head."

Tyler bit down on his bottom lip, thinking. "When did you first see her?"

Bonnie hesitated with her answer. It felt so personal all the sudden, even though she'd already told him the basics of this story. She died, Qetsiyah brought her back. But Bonnie 2.0 and everything she'd said? All her words? Her biting disappointment and searing disgust? That wasn't something she wanted anyone to know about.

Bonnie inhaled deeply. "She came to me the night I died." She slipped her hands into her pockets so she'd be doing something with them, and she rocked back and forth on her heels until she told herself to stop. "We talked, and she told me Qetsiyah would bring me back to life. Since then I haven't seen her really, just sometimes. I just imagine her."

"You imagine her?" Tyler said. "But she's not real?"

"Not then she's not," Bonnie said, "but she was that night."

"What else did she say to you?"

Bonnie clucked her tongue. "I'm not telling you. Especially if you're not going to tell me what you talked to her about."

Tyler gave his head a short nod and did a circuit around the room, looking down at his feet as he went. He didn't offer to tell her anything in exchange. "Is she you? Your subconscious or something?"

Bonnie shrugged her shoulders. "I don't know. Maybe. If you told me what she said, I could help you-"

"No," Tyler said quickly, turning around to face her. He moved so quickly it was like he'd been shocked into position. "I don't trust you."

Bonnie hated herself for being stung by that. She swallowed. "Tyler-"

"I don't trust you," he repeated. "You're with Klaus. You'll do whatever you have to do to keep that going, and if you get backed into a corner, you could give me up. I'm not gonna risk it."

"I haven't given you up yet," Bonnie said. "And I don't have any plans to."

"Yeah, I know," Tyler said. "I appreciate you not telling Klaus, you know I do, but I'd rather not put anything else on you. You don't need to worry about me anymore. If you can keep me being here a secret from Klaus, then thanks, but if you think you need to tell him for whatever reason, you can do that, too. I'll handle it."

Bonnie pressed her lips together. "You know you won't be able to," she said. It may have come out harsher than she'd intended. It definitely had because Tyler's expression turned even stonier than before.

"I'll manage," he said, stepping past her to reach for the doorknob. Bonnie reached for his arm, stopping him, and she fought the urge to roll her eyes when Tyler pulled his arm away.

"I want to talk," she said. "I came by yesterday because I wanted to talk."

"Marcel told me," Tyler sighed.

Bonnie inhaled and reminded herself to choose her words very carefully. "I really am sorry. There's really nothing else I can say."

"I'll admit," Tyler said, "that I didn't know her that well. Or even at all maybe. But she was good to me while she was here. Until I found you here I didn't have anyone, but I had Lydia. And you killed her, and I know that she hurt you, and I get that. But you didn't kill her when she attacked you. You left her alive and you waited until Klaus told you to kill her. You killed her for him, not for you, and that's why I don't trust you."

Bonnie sighed. "I-"

The door swung open, and Marcel stepped into the foyer, looking surprised to see Bonnie there. "Oh," Marcel said as Bonnie held Tyler's gaze, wanting to say something - anything - back but unwilling to do it with Marcel here. "Sorry. I thought you two would be finished by now," he said. "I can come back."

"No," Tyler said. "We're done. Good luck, Bonnie."

* * *

When Bonnie got back to her apartment, Klaus was there, drinking her wine and watching her TV. Someone else was with him, a young woman with dark hair and bangs that fell right above her eyes. She stood near the windows, keeping plenty of distance between her and Klaus, and she looked relieved to be joined by a third party.

"Who's this?" Bonnie demanded, dropping her bag with a loud clunk onto the coffee table. She wasn't in the mood for visitors. After Tyler had cut their conversation short, she was done with socializing for the day.

"Bonnie, allow me to introduce you to Sophie Deveraux," Klaus said, placing his wine glass on the table. "A partner of mine."

"A witch," Sophie added.

"I figured that already," Bonnie said. She could feel it from where she stood, the magic that clung to Sophie. She turned her attention back to Klaus. "So what's she doing here?"

"The full moon is tomorrow night," Klaus said. "Hayley's transformation will need to be controlled. Sophie's going to give you the information you'll need to keep Hayley from turning."

On cue Sophie pulled a folded piece of paper from her pocket, unfolding it to hand it to Bonnie. Her handwriting was neat and precise, spelling out distinct, numbered directions and an incantation. "That's how you do it," she said when Bonnie took it from her. "Hayley will be in pain all night, but there's a tea you can make her with the herbs I have written on the back. It'll help some."

Bonnie read over the page. It looked fairly simple, nothing she couldn't handle. "Okay," she said.

"You're welcome," Sophie said, and Bonnie couldn't figure out if she was talking to her or to Klaus. In either case, Bonnie blinked at her.

"Okay," she repeated.

"Thank you, Sophie," Klaus said loudly. "That will be all." He guided her toward the door, opening it up and ushering her out though he stayed behind.

"As usual," Klaus said, after he closed the door, "you are a ray of sunshine, scorching everything with your heat." When he stepped closer, he looked at her closely. Bonnie stared back, refusing to look away because then he'd know she was uncomfortable with him now. "Have you recovered from your..._state_?"

"Yeah," Bonnie answered, wondering if he'd bring up their aborted hook-up. She was relieved when he didn't. And she was even more relieved that he didn't try to pick up where they'd left off.

"Good," Klaus said. "I need you at your best. Marcel's gathering the witches tomorrow night."

"All of them?" Bonnie asked. "What for?" She didn't think there was any chance of an execution tonight.

"That's why you'll be going," Klaus said. "Take care of Hayley then see what it's about."

* * *

Bonnie knocked on Rebekah's apartment door the next afternoon with prepared herbs and Sophie's spell in hand. "She's here!" Rebekah called on the other side of the door. When she opened it, she pasted on a wide smile, brushing her pale blond hair away from her face. "Hello, Bonnie," she said. "Hayley's been looking forward to this all day."

Hayley came into view in sweats and a t-shirt, lowering herself onto the sofa where she folded her hands across her stomach. "Let's just get this over with," she said.

Rebekah's apartment wasn't what Bonnie expected. But then she realized she hadn't known what to expect. It seemed like it may be larger than Bonnie's. There was an extra door on the left side, perhaps leading to a second bedroom. It was done up in pale shades of white, very similar to Klaus' apartment though Rebekah's lacked all the black. There were gold and silver colored accents instead.

After Bonnie performed the spell, while Rebekah watched attentively, she made a pot of tea for Hayley and filled a cup for her. As Hayley made herself comfortable, Bonnie passed her the tea and watched her sip it slowly, making a face down at its contents. It wasn't long before Hayley was breathing heavier, grunting and moaning in pain. She tried to contain it as best she could, but it was clear she was in agony.

Rebekah perched on the edge of the sofa and patted one of Hayley's ankles supportively. "Look on the bright side, darling," she said. "This is still better than what you _would_ be doing."

Hayley glared at her as she raised her tea to her mouth again. "If you're only going to make things worse, feel free to go."

Rebekah smiled. "And leave you to suffer alone? I don't think so."

Bonnie had no problem leaving either of them alone to do anything so she grabbed her keys and turned to go. "Why don't you stick around, Bonnie?" Rebekah called after her. "You're so _tense_. Just sit down, drink a glass of something alcoholic and very flammable and enjoy yourself." She broke away from Hayley's side to brush past Bonnie and go into the kitchen where she pulled a bottle of vodka from one of the cabinets.

"I hate drinking alone," Rebekah said, taking down two glasses, "and Hayley's never able to take part. So." She poured Bonnie a shot and held the glass out to her, smiling.

Bonnie stared at it for a moment. When she finally took it, she downed it immediately. She hadn't had straight vodka in months, and she'd forgotten the burn. She coughed a little, and Rebekah's lips curved upward into a satisfied smile. "Well," she said, pouring herself some and drinking it down, "here's to an interesting evening."

* * *

Bonnie had planned on returning to her apartment and sulking until she had to go to the Quarter. She had it all figured out. She was going to take a long bath and crack open a grimoire and study it for an hour before she left. Instead she stayed with Rebekah and Hayley, replenishing Hayley's tea and somehow, not hating being there with them.

"I never know if this is working," Hayley said, putting her cup down on the coffee table and leaning back against the sofa cushions, exhaling heavily. Even if the tea was working, it didn't do anything to alleviate her discomfort, and it didn't matter what position she put herself in because she was forced to move seconds later.

"This has to be better than turning," Rebekah said as she came from the kitchen with a bag of crackers for Bonnie who had expressed her hunger a few minutes ago. She dropped them into Bonnie's lap unceremoniously and joined Hayley on the sofa.

"The turning stops eventually," Hayley reminded them extending her legs so her feet rested in Rebekah's lap, and Rebekah surprisingly didn't mind it. "This is gonna go all night."

It was strange to sit there with them. If Bonnie squinted her eyes and moved several feet away, she might think they were Elena and Caroline, and Bonnie was back with them, drinking vodka and gossiping. But it was Hayley and Rebekah, and Elena and Caroline were at Whitmore doing whatever it was they were doing now. College freshmen things, like going to frat parties and bitching about communal showers. And this wasn't like that - wasn't _anything_ like that - but it wasn't bad.

Bonnie didn't say much while she was there. She drank and she sat quietly, but neither Rebekah nor Hayley seemed to mind her silence. Listening to them distracted her from other thoughts, of her old friends and of Tyler. Hayley and Rebekah were almost funny together, toeing the line between genuinely affectionate and genuinely annoyed with each other. They were handling the roommate thing better than Bonnie and Hayley had. Maybe it was because Hayley was pregnant with Rebekah's niece or nephew as this was the most decent Bonnie had ever seen Rebekah be with anyone.

"Distract me," Hayley groaned. "Tell me something scandalous." She turned her gaze to Rebekah as she refilled hers and Bonnie's glasses. "You never told me what happened with you and Marcel." Wiggling her eyebrows conspiratorially, she asked, "Did you two hook up?"

Rebekah smiled coyly and sipped her drink, pushing Bonnie's toward her with the tips of her manicured fingers. "A lady never tells."

Bonnie shrugged down at her glass. "I hooked up with Marcel."

Hayley threw back her head and laughed to be joined by an equally amused Rebekah. "So we have something in common," she said, tapping her glass against Bonnie's.

Bonnie smiled at the clinking of their glasses.

"Well," Hayley said, her pain momentarily forgotten, "I guess I'm the only lady here."

"If you weren't currently pregnant with my brother's baby," Rebekah said, "I'd recommend you try it out yourself. Marcel is truly gifted."

"Annoying," Bonnie said, "but yes, gifted."

Hayley made a face down at her belly, rubbing a circle across the top. "Maybe once the baby's born?"

Bonnie wondered if Klaus was going to keep as tight leash on Hayley after the birth. Would he try to keep the baby for himself? Would Hayley care if he did? Or would Klaus demand that she stick around and so he could add her name to the list of people he wanted to control?

"You'll have to move quickly," Rebekah said. "If Klaus has his way, Marcel won't be around much longer."

Speaking of. Bonnie glanced down her phone, watching the time turn to 11:34. "I have to go," she said as she stood up.

"Ah yes, Marcel has his little gathering tonight," Rebekah said. "Oh, well. Come back when you're done. You can tell us all about it."

"We'll still be up," Hayley assured her, shoving a pillow behind her back. "I'm not getting any sleep tonight."

"I might," Bonnie said, though she couldn't imagine why she'd do that. She didn't know why she'd been here this long. It didn't make sense. Nothing made sense anymore.

"I'll walk you out," Rebekah offered. At the door, she pulled it open and leaned against the threshold. Bonnie turned to face her.

"So what's your deal?" Bonnie asked. Hayley she didn't know about. Maybe she was still feeling friendly after hers and Bonnie's momentary living situation, but Rebekah was a different animal.

"No deal," Rebekah said with a light shrug of her shoulders. "You're lonely, even if you want to deny it. I heard you and my brother the other night. Naturally, I was listening."

"_Naturally_," Bonnie echoed sarcastically.

Rebekah smiled then grew serious again. "I know what's it like to feel like the only person you have is Nik. And he is _not _the only person you want to have."

* * *

The moon hung high in the sky when Bonnie reached the Quarter. It was packed with people, and the closer Bonnie got to Marcel's place the more evident it became that they were all supernatural. Mostly witches but also vampires, growing in number as the amount of witches did, making sure it stayed even. Bonnie navigated the crowd with ease, magicking her way from one spot to another to speed it up. A few witches who spotted her, and her free use of magic, glared at her. They probably knew who she was: the only witch in New Orleans free to practice.

Bonnie ignored their glares and found a spot to stand close to the wall where she leaned. She hoped Marcel would make this fast, whatever it was. The last thing she wanted to do was be stuck here listening to him make speeches. She'd rather be back with Rebekah and Hayley.

She really _would_ rather be back with Rebekah and Hayley. Maybe she would go back afterward.

If she was going to make this work, make it _really_ work, then she needed friends. Maybe that had been her mistake, isolating herself except for Klaus and Elijah and occasional strangers met at Turbulence. Trying to amend that decision with Tyler was a bad call, too. He was too Mystic Falls. But Hayley and Rebekah were New Orleans. They weren't Elena and Caroline, and that was what Bonnie needed. The anti-Elena and the anti-Caroline were what she needed. She'd broken away from Elena and Caroline already, and she and Tyler were going their separate ways now, but that didn't mean she had to be alone. If she had other people on retainer maybe she wouldn't find herself desperately making out with Klaus again.

Bonnie glanced up and saw Tyler across the street, tucked into an alcove where he was mostly hidden. He hadn't noticed her, and she wondered what he'd do if she joined him over there. Change locations most likely. Bonnie stayed where she was, turning to the makeshift stage when she saw movement out of the corner of her eye. Marcel, stepping up. He was flanked by Duke and Ronan, and they all looked out over the witches, expressionless.

"Good evening, witches," Marcel said. Bonnie saw the ripple of annoyance as it glided through the crowd, the disbelief, the hatred. They were here, taking orders from a vampire, gathered there by a vampire. "For many years now we've enjoyed a very specific arrangement, and it's had its advantages. And it's disadvantages so I think it's time we made a change."

There was a quiet rumble of confusion, whispered uncertainties about where this was going. Could Marcel be relinquishing his hold on them and their magic? Would he do that?

Bonnie knew the answer, and the witches - at least most of them - had to know it, too. No. Marcel would never let them go.

Bonnie startled as the witch closest to her screamed. She was an older woman with long braids and practically weighed down in jewelry. Her scream came from her gut, making her arch her back and point her face up to the sky, and the glowing moon up above. She wasn't the only one. They were all screaming.

Bonnie looked from one to another to another and another, and it was all the same. Anguished cries spilling from their mouths, screaming as if they were being tortured. Bonnie looked closer at the nearest witch's face and saw that she was crying.

Bonnie shoved her way toward Tyler, and none of the witches seemed to notice her movement. They were too occupied with their screaming. Tyler looked just as worried as Bonnie felt and he startled at Bonnie's sudden approach. "What's Marcel doing to them?" she demanded.

Tyler shook his head. "I don't know," he answered.

"Tyler," Bonnie said warningly. She didn't have time for lies.

"_I don't know_," he repeated.

With a frustrated sigh, Bonnie went back, climbing onto the stage next to Marcel. Neither Duke nor Ronan moved to stop her, and Marcel turned his gaze away from the witches to look at her. "Good evening, Bonnie," he said with a smile.

"What are you doing?"

"Handling business," he answered turning his gaze casually back to the witches, unbothered by their persistent cries.

Bonnie stepped into his line of sight. "Are you killing them?"

"No," Marcel said. "I'm doing something much worse."

The screams cut off suddenly, and Marcel stepped to the side to look around her. The silence was just as loud as the yelling. The witches stood mostly still, some of them swaying slightly, unsteady. A ripple moved through the crowd, someone pushing their way through as another scream came, an anguished "No". It was a gut-wrenching wail.

The someone reached the front of the crowd, stopping at Bonnie's side. Sophie, her expression dark. She was wound up, her hands shaking even as she fixed Marcel with a withering stare. "How did you do it?"

Marcel only looked at her, his smirk still in place.

"Does she still have hers?" Sophie demanded, pointing an accusatory finger at Bonnie. "Answer me! Does she still have her powers?"

Bonnie knew she did. She could feel them still. She knew what it was like not to have them, and she would have felt it instantly if they were gone, the absence that would be tugging at her. She hadn't joined the witches in their pain or added her voice to their cries.

Marcel said nothing. Instead he nodded to Duke and Ronan, and they came down to take Sophie's arms and pull her away. "Why does she still have hers?!" Sophie screamed. The other witches turned their heads to watch her be taken away. Most of them did. Others were still standing, as if they were in shock, staring at the ground and their magicless hands.

With a contented hum, Marcel turned and hopped off the stage, going into the building without another word to Bonnie. Why he'd done this was obvious, but _how_? She looked over her shoulder at his retreating form then back out to the crowd where she tried to find Tyler. The alcove he'd occupied was now empty.

The witches were being roughly handled by converging vampires, shoving them away from the building. The ones who hadn't yet been forced to move were staring at Bonnie, eyes narrowed into identical slits of rage and suspicion. They'd all heard Sophie. They all knew what she meant, and they knew what this looked like.

Bonnie was the last witch in New Orleans.


	21. Not A Vampire

**Look at this, an update that's actually on time. Anyway, for the sake of not confusing you guys as the timeline advances I've changed the flashback headings to "Then" and "Now". Thanks for reading, and please do leave reviews. I love hearing what you guys think!**

* * *

Not A Vampire

"Marcel!"

Tyler really didn't have to yell. Marcel was only a few steps ahead of him and walking leisurely, but it felt important to yell. It got the job done at least.

Marcel wheeled around, inclining his head curiously. "Yes?"

"You're making her a target," Tyler said. "You know that right?"

Inside the building, they were cut off from the rumble of dissent outside, the grieving witches and vampires pointing them back toward wherever they'd come from. Everyone else was outside helping clear the building. Only Tyler couldn't help, hindered by the secret that was his presence.

Marcel raised his eyebrows. "Are we talking about Bonnie?" he asked with a curious lilt to his voice.

Tyler let out an exasperated sigh. "_Yes_. Marcel-"

His annoyance must have been plain because Marcel waved a hand. "Yes, I know what I'm doing." With that, he turned and resumed his walk toward the bar.

"Those witches think she's on your side," Tyler said, hurrying to keep up. "Most importantly," he added, reaching for Marcel's arm, "_Klaus _is going to think she's on your side."

And Klaus wasn't known for his ability to effectively reason with others, especially when one accounted for his excess of paranoia. At the very least Klaus would rescind every bit of help he'd provided Bonnie with since they'd partnered up. At the most, he'd cut his losses and kill her rather than have the lone witch in New Orleans allied with his enemy. Either way, Bonnie lost.

Marcel rested a hand on top of Tyler's where he held his wrist, looking him directly in the eye. "_I know_," he said.

Marcel pulled away but Tyler tugged him back. "Klaus could _kill_ her."

"He won't," Marcel said, gently prying Tyler's hand off of his wrist and turning to the bar which he rounded to bend down and find two glasses.

"You don't know that," Tyler said.

Marcel pointed his eyes to the ceiling. "Yes, I do. He won't kill her, and Bonnie's no shrinking violet either. She's found herself a real knack for self-preservation. You know that."

Tyler frowned down at the bar. Yes, Bonnie knew how to stay alive now, knew how to play the game, was willing to do anything to remain a player in it, Klaus's shining star. But it wasn't Bonnie who got to decide what value Klaus placed in her. If he thought she was more trouble than she was help, he may cut her loose, and if Klaus abandoned Bonnie she'd have nothing and no one except...

Tyler scoffed. "You think Bonnie will come to _you_ if Klaus turns against her." Marcel shrugged and filled his glass and then Tyler's, pushing it toward him. Tyler shook his head down at it, almost laughing. "And what if it doesn't work?"

Marcel shrugged again. "Have some faith, Tyler. I told you this was going to push this up a notch, and it will. For me, for you. For all of us. Everything's happening almost exactly the way I want it to."

"_Almost_ exactly," Tyler repeated.

"There are always slight differences," Marcel acknowledged with a nod of his head. "Listen up. This is a teaching moment."

Tyler rolled his eyes but rested an elbow on the counter. "Okay."

""The key to all of this, to what I do, to who I am - is manipulation," Marcel said. "Good, old-fashioned manipulation. And the key to manipulation? Knowing who you're up against, knowing their strengths, their weaknesses, their hopes, their fears, their desires. And exploiting those things. If you know those, you can make anyone do exactly what you want with a few well-placed circumstances."

"So this is a well-placed circumstance?" Tyler asked. "Taking away the witches' powers?"

Marcel smiled. "This is a _very_ well-placed circumstance. We're protected from the witches now, and we've set some things in motion."

Tyler blinked. "Really?"

"Really," Marcel assured him. "Klaus fails at the long game. I'm not perfect, I'll admit, but I'm better at that than he is. Klaus has no patience, and that's another thing you need to have. Be patient. Always patient. Until you can't be anymore, at the very last second when things start coming to head. If you've got the pieces set up right, they'll move on their own. I rarely make any moves, Tyler. I make a few, yes, but everyone else are the ones running around, working too hard."

Meanwhile Marcel was pouring liquor and lounging at his bar while witches were lamenting the loss of their powers and asking one another how Bonnie Bennett, the one witch in town who was definitely on Klaus' side, definitely not on Marcel's and descended from a super powerful line was the only one who got to keep hers.

"What do you think Klaus is doing right now?" Marcel asked after he took a sip of his drink.

Tyler shrugged. "Breaking something. There's probably some screaming involved. And someone's getting physically assaulted before the sun comes up."

Marcel grinned. "Sounds about right. And look at us. We're...just fine."

"Mmhmm," Tyler said, tapping his foot on the floor. He considered before asking his question. "How'd you do it?"

Marcel looked at him as if he didn't know what Tyler was referring to. "How'd you take their powers?" Tyler clarified.

Marcel smiled. "You think I'm gonna answer that?"

"A witch?" Tyler questioned. It was the only possibility. What else could strip hundreds of witches of their birthrights in one fell swoop? No vampire had the ability, not even New Orleans' king.

"If you have her, why do you need Bonnie?" Tyler asked.

A smirk rested on Marcel's face as Tyler stared at him, waiting for Marcel to say _something_. Finally he said, "Drink your drink, kid."

Tyler did.

"We should get you back home. You've got an early day," Marcel said, checking his watch.

"I do?"

"You wanted to talk to the wolves didn't you? You'll be going there today."

* * *

**Then**

The night was going to be the hottest it had ever been, and the air conditioning unit in Tyler's apartment had cut out twice already. The heat wasn't bothersome for a hybrid but the humidity left everything in his apartment feeling slightly damp so he went up to the roof of the building where he sat on the edge, feet dangling over onto the street below.

It wasn't dark yet, but it would be soon. Tonight was a full moon. Tyler hadn't yet gotten out of the habit of checking for it even though the days when he'd lock himself in the cellar and chain himself up were behind him. Up here he would be closer to it than he'd ever been before, and it wouldn't have any effect on him whatsoever. It was just the moon to him, benign and unimportant.

Below something clanged in the alley.

Tyler peered over the edge, past his dangling feet to two shapes making their way down the alley. They were practically glued to one another, hobbling down the alley with their arms wrapped around one another.

"We're not gonna make it," the guy said. "I can't-"

"We still have time," the girl said. "The transformation still takes forever for you, and I've got at least an hour left. We'll find somewhere. Come on we should-"

A muffled groan from her partner silenced her.

"Adam," she said, when she found her voice again. "Let's go."

Tyler tilted his head back to the look at the moon in all its benign unimportance. There weren't supposed to be any werewolves in the city. That was what Lydia said. New Orleans' vampire king wasn't going to stand for a bunch of ferocious werewolves capable of damning him with a single bite remaining in the city. But these two had to be werewolves. If anyone saw them, if they hurt anyone, Marcel would make sure they paid the consequences.

He probably shouldn't get involved. After all, he wasn't a werewolf anymore and was perfectly capable of spending his full moons on the roof. He didn't need any trouble. He was supposed to be staying under the radar, not getting on top of it.

But they wouldn't find anywhere to go, not before one of them turned, and Tyler had just the place.

He pushed himself off the edge and hit the ground with bent knees and very little noise. The pair heard him as he landed on the one having to put a hand on the wall to steady himself through the pain.

The girl stepped forward, a hand extended. "Wait," she said. "We're leaving. We were passing through on our way outside of the city. We got stranded. We're not trying to break any rules. We're just looking for somewhere to go where we won't be a problem. Okay?"

It took Tyler awhile to realize what the problem was, what they thought he was. "Oh," he said. "I'm not with Marcel. Do you need help?"

The girl looked from Tyler to Adam. She opened her mouth to speak and doubled over instantly, letting out a cry through gritted teeth. "Shit," she snarled. "We need somewhere to go."

Tyler nodded. "Come on," he said, motioning for them to follow him. The apartment building he'd chosen probably wasn't passing many inspections but the landlord was never around and there was a basement. It was cool and damp, possibly a little moldy as well, but Tyler didn't think either of the werewolves were in any position to argue.

The girl held Adam up as they stumbled down the staircase behind Tyler, clinging to the unsteady railing and trying to remain upright.

Tyler approached the corner of the room where a heavy door led to what the landlord had appeared to be an old freezer, no longer being used. He'd discovered it just a few days ago, while he was trying to kill time. With Lydia mysteriously AWOL, he had to entertain himself somehow, and poking around the shithole he'd chosen as a place of residence was how he did it.

Tyler pulled the door open. Inside it smelled musty and wet. "This is the best I can do," he said, with a feeble gesture.

"It's not gonna hold," Adam said right before his left leg gave way underneath him with a sickening crack. The girl held him up with one arm.

"I'll can handle it," Tyler said. "I'll keep you in."

Adam looked to the girl skeptically. "If we get out, and we bite you, you'll die," she warned.

"I'm not a vampire," Tyler said. "You won't hurt me." He gestured to the freezer again, and the girl let out a frustrated breath, but she helped her friend to his feet.

"We have to," she said. "We're running out of time."

"How do we know we can trust him?" her friend asked, not even bothering to lower his voice. The pain was probably too much for politeness.

"We _have_ to," the girl said. "Come on." She guided him toward the freezer, letting him go in before her.

"It's only his second time," she said as he settled himself against the wall, shutting his eyes like that would make the pain more bearable.

"What number is this for you?"

"I stopped counting after the first year was up," she said, stepping backwards into the freezer. "This is really nice of you," she added.

"Yeah, no problem," Tyler said before he pushed the door shut. He sat down on the floor and put his back against the door.

The girl was quiet, but Adam started screaming in less than an hour, and Tyler could hear the breaking of their bones from outside.

* * *

**Now**

"It's unlikely any of them will want to speak with you," Marcel warned. Tyler held the phone to his ear, squinting out the windshield as he turned the car down a street lined with storefronts and a sidewalk packed with people. "Knowing you're there because of me."

"I won't tell them I'm here for _you_," Tyler said. "Not right away."

"That's probably wise," Marcel agreed. "The first house-"

"The Fallons?"

"Yes, them. From what I recall they have a bit of _pride_ in their werewolf status," Marcel explained. "If you're planning on playing the no-more-turning-on-full-moons card, _don't_. It won't work. Be positive."

"Will do," Tyler said as he turned down Olive. The Fallon residence was coming up, and it wasn't what he'd expected. The street he was on now was lined with pretty white houses with identical white picket fences and green, perfectly manicured lawns. Shiny cars were parked in pristine driveways. A man was outside watering his plants.

"This is..."

"I know. I thought they'd all be living in trailer parks and cabins in the woods," Marcel said. "But they're all there. Pack mentality, you know. They all went to the same place. Call me when you're headed back. And don't forget to explain _my_ terms."

"I came up with _your_ terms," Tyler said. "I won't forget them."

Marcel laughed. "Just making sure. Good luck."

Tyler squinted up at the sun as he got out of the car to approach the front door. The house was totally silent as he approached. It wasn't until he was on the porch that he heard movement from inside, people walking around, talking to one another. He counted three heartbeats inside.

Tyler rang the bell.

An older woman answered with a mane of curly dark hair and large, dark eyes. She had a stern face, already looking at him as if he was a dreadful annoyance, a burden on her pretty porch. "Yes?" she said expectantly, looking him up and down.

"Hi," Tyler said. "My name's Tyler."

The woman blinked at him.

"I'm..." He hadn't really considered what to say as far as the introduction went. The rest of the speech he had figured out, but the introduction...He'd barely thought of it.

"I'd like to speak with you," Tyler said. "I have an offer for you and your family."

The woman examined him. She moved closer to the threshold, lifting her chin and narrowing her eyes. A beat. And then another. Then her face bent into a scowl. "I don't deal with vampires," she spat, moving to slam the door.

"Wait," Tyler said. "I-"

A different hand caught hold of the door's edge, and the woman frowned at its owner on the other side of the door. She looked irritated, but she allowed him to step in front of her.

"It's okay, Kate," Adam said, with a small smile. "He's not a vampire."

Adam didn't look well. Tyler hadn't considered it when they'd first met since Adam was turning at the time, but he hoped Adam didn't look this haggard always or it definitely indicated a serious problem. There were dark circles underneath his eyes, and he looked dangerously thin. After Adam extended an invitation, Kate disappeared into the kitchen with a smaller boy who peered at Tyler curiously as he followed Adam into the backyard.

"Didn't think I'd see you again," Adam said as he sat down on a wooden bench in the middle of a flowerbed.

"Same here," Tyler said, sitting down next to him.

"How'd you find me?" Adam asked.

"I didn't," Tyler said. "I'm meeting all the werewolves I can find. This is just a coincidence." Where's your friend? The girl?"

"My sister," Adam clarified. "Mia's out, but she'll be back." He fiddled with his hands in his lap, and Tyler could see his fingers trembling.

"Bad night?" he asked carefully.

"They're all bad nights," Adam said, shaking his head slightly. "This one was just a little bit worse." When Tyler looked at him questioningly, Adam sighed. "I got out. My younger brother, he was the one who chained me up. It was his first time, and he...It doesn't matter. I got out."

"Did you hurt someone?"

"He's still alive," Adam answered. "I made it to the park a few miles from her, attacked a guy. The news said he almost lost his leg." He swallowed and looked down at his hands. "So what's this offer?"

"I'm kind of doing an experiment."

"An experiment?"

Tyler nodded. "I'm looking for werewolves who may be interested in _not _being just werewolves anymore."

"You're making hybrids," Adam realized, blowing out a steady breath. "Like you."

"Yeah."

Adam rifled through his pockets, pulled out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. He put a cigarette in his mouth and lit the tip. "I'm interested," he said. "How do we do it?"

"Well, first you should know the risks," Tyler said. "I don't know if this will even work with me. You could die. You have to drink my blood then I kill you, and when you wake up - _if_ you wake up - you have to feed to complete the transition."

Adam nodded and took a long drag of his cigarette. He blew out the smoke and it disappeared in curls into the sk. "What else?"

"Have you heard of sire bonds? They happen sometimes with vampires."

"Yeah."

"It happens with hybrids," Tyler said. "We were sired to the man who made us. We had absolute confidence in him and what he wanted from us, and we followed him without question. Even if you told yourself you _didn't_ want what he wanted, you did it anyway. And...that could happen again. You won't have free will, you'll do whatever I say."

"Is it permanent?"

"I broke my sire bond," Tyler said. "It required turning over and over again until the gratitude that I felt toward my sire was...gone."

"Gratitude," Adam repeated tapping the edge of his cigarette onto the bench so ashes fluttered to the ground.

"And," Tyler said.

"Long list of cons, bro," Adam said, laughing.

"This one could be a pro," Tyler said. "_Bro_. I work for Marcel Gerard."

"I thought you weren't with Marcel," Adam said, cutting his eyes to Tyler.

"I wasn't then," Tyler said. "I am now. Marcel's engaged in a conflict with someone - the hybrid who made me, an Original. And he needs numbers."

"So I'll be fighting for Marcel," Adam said, looking up to the sky.

"Yes," Tyler answered. "If you agree, and if it works, you can come to New Orleans. Marcel will find a place for you to live. He'll even pay you a monthly salary. And when he wins, you're no longer bound to him. _And_ you can stay in the city after that assuming you don't make any moves to threaten his position and you follow the same rules the vampires do."

"Will I need to kiss his ring, too?"

Tyler laughed. "I can put that in there if you want." They were both quiet. "I'll let you think about it," he said finally. "I'll come back tomorrow."

"I don't need to think," Adam said, tossing his cigarette on the ground and griding it underneath his sole. "I'll do it. I can deal with all that stuff you talked about."

"You could die," Tyler reminded him.

"I heard you," Adam said, almost impatiently. "I'll be your guinea pig, your patient zero. Try me, and if it works then great. And if it doesn't...at least I won't have to do this-" he gestured to himself "-anymore."

Tyler sighed at the ground. He wanted to remind him again, of the risk, the uncertainty. But he'd heard everything Tyler had said already. Repeating it would just annoy him, and Tyler remembered that feeling, the dread and the fear of the coming full moon. If Klaus had simply offered the chance to him, instead of forcing it on him, Tyler thought he may have leapt at the chance as well.

* * *

When Tyler returned to the house, he expected Marcel to be there. Their phone call on the way back had been short though Marcel had congratulated him on finding someone to test the hybrid theory on. Marcel wasn't at the house so Tyler trudged up to his bedroom. He sat on his bed for a long time staring into the duffel bag that carried the bags of Katherine's blood.

For Klaus, the blood of a doppelganger had been the issue all along. For Tyler it was his blood that may be the problem.

Bonnie 2.0 had been certain it would work, but Tyler wasn't certain he could trust her.

Tyler put the bag back underneath his bed where his other duffel bag sat, flimsy and empty except for the cell phone he hadn't touched since he'd gotten Caroline's last message, the one about her date. Had she called again? Would she keep calling even once she started seeing someone else?

Tyler fished the phone out and turned it on. When he dialed his voice mail, the automated voice informed him: _Three unheard messages. First message sent Friday, August 23 at 11:57 PM Eastern Time_

"Hey," Caroline said. She must have thought she was trying too hard to sound chipper (she was) because her tone became more somber after that. "I don't know if you're still - if you ever were - checking your messages, and I don't know if you want to hear from me anymore more after the...thing. But I-"

Tyler pressed seven.

_Message erased. Next message sent Tuesday, August 27 at 2:23 PM Eastern Time_

"Hey," Caroline said. Tyler pressed seven again.

_Message erased. Next message sent yesterday September 3 at 3:03 AM Eastern Time_

Tyler's finger hovered over the button waiting for Caroline to speak. But it wasn't Caroline on the other end.

"Tyler," Jeremy said in a tone that sounded like he was almost confused that he'd called, like he couldn't remember why. "It's me, Jeremy. Caroline mentioned a couple times that she left you messages," he went on. "I thought I'd give it a try. I don't know if you actually get these though. I hope you're doing okay wherever you are, staying safe and all." He paused, and Tyler heard rustling, the flick of a lighter.

"I'm calling because..." Jeremy let his voice trail off, and he flicked the lighter some more. "Because Bonnie's dead, and everyone's moving on but me. You know how things get here. A new Big Bad every day. Well, the same one as last time I guess. I just...I don't care. School sucks. I'm living with _Damon_, and Bonnie is really, _really_ dead."

He sounded...high.

"She said we'd talk every day," Jeremy said, "but we don't talk. And I can't see her. I look for her _constantly_, and she's not here. So naturally I assumed this meant she was alive and kicking _somewhere_ so I looked and I looked, and...nothing. If she was alive...She'd be here, right? With me?"

Tyler thought of Bonnie in the Quarter last night, confronting Marcel in front of everyone, the witches accusing stares turned on her.

The phone was fumbled, and then the lighter flicked again. When Jeremy came back, he was mumbling slightly. "Remember when we used to smoke behind the school?"

"Yeah," Tyler said.

"Those days sucked, too," Jeremy said. "This is just like when my parents died except...not. It's worse because Bonnie was...She should be here, and she _would be_, if not for me. If she hadn't..."

Tyler heard him inhale and exhale, could imagine the smoke and the smell of pot. He was transported back to the woods, where he'd immerse himself in the dark, his mind drunken and pot-addled and Jeremy off to the side pining over Vicki.

"Caroline was right," Jeremy said, "when she said I should have stayed dead. I should have."

Tyler's grip tightened on his phone.

"I miss Bonnie," Jeremy added, and his voice cracked. "And I can't stop. I'm all alone here, and I-"

Tyler's phone beeped, signaling the message's cutoff. "Fuck," Tyler hissed, tossing the phone onto the bed. He stared at it for what felt like a long time, thinking.

Then he practically lunged for his new phone, calling Marcel.

"Yeah?" he said.

"What's Bonnie's number?"


End file.
